Sea of Fire
by Zavijah
Summary: AU. ShounenAi SxS Set in a time when Pharaoh's were living Gods. One Prince decides to play a secret war with his cousin. Their favorite weapon of choice against each another is one particular slave. COMPLETE. Sequel in progress
1. A Silent Challenge

**Chapter One: A Silent Challenge**

                An ocean of fiery oranges and golden yellows spanned out into the horizon. Every wave was tall, curved to perfection, and shimmered boldly under the hot mid-noon sun. If anything, it was a beautiful. A storm captured vividly in a painting; and like a painting, it was frozen in time. The desert was a sea of sand, but it's arching waves never crashed nor crumpled into a far away beach; they remained tall and strong, unchanging to the people who looked upon their endless numbers.

                Amidst the raging, yet frozen sea of painted sand, a proud city built of stone, marble and a small amount of wood, stood just as strong. If the desert were truly alive, this city would be the heart. Then the river adjacent to the city would be the aorta—carrying the blood through the desert to keep it alive. Yet, without the heart, the river--the very blood of the land--would be useless.

                Zamir was the center of life for all the people of the desert; ruled by High Pharaoh Almasy. The man was to be feared, and envied at the same time. No enemy could stand against his ruthlessness, and bitter taste for vengeance. Regardless of the fear he put into the hearts of every man, the people envied their Pharaoh for the way he took care of his city. They never went hungry, or thirsty. His wrath may have been great, but his people surely did not show it.

                The Pharaoh's rule had prolonged that of most others. There would soon come a time when the High Pharaoh would pass his position of power down, onto his only son, Seifer Almasy.

**Zamir: Rock Quarry**

A whipped cracked, as noticeable as a roar of thunder. Heads turned momentarily to see who was being punished this time. A dozen pairs of eyes caught a glimpse then resumed their impassive gaze at the shifting sand below their steadily marching feet.

                Seifer was the only one who did not look away. Jade eyes watched blankly as a guard shouted at a fallen slave, striking the man's bare back with a short whip. The slave shuddered physically before meekly reaching out to pick up the hard, white stones that had fallen from the basket on his back.

                It serves the man right, Seifer thought with a smug smirk; the slave should have been watching where he was walking. It was his own fault that he tripped and fell, spilling out his burden before the feet of a watchful guard.

                Seifer turned away to view the rest of the works. He brushed a hand through his soft, golden blonde hair. The servant beside him moved to shade Seifer's vivid green eyes from the glaring sun. He glowed, literally; the sun splashed over his evenly tanned skin, his perfect coloring rivaling that of the painted desert. The rays of light glinted off the gold necklaces adorning his neck. Matching pieces of beautiful, yet heavy metal encircled both of his upper arms, heightening the appearance of well toned muscles. A single gold signet ring flashed on his right hand; two silver bands on the left.

                The sun played over the young bare torso, clearly muscled to a state of longed perfection. Seifer was a God, or as close to one as a human could possibly hope to achieve. Once the fateful day comes when he becomes a Pharaoh, then Seifer would be the very bridge between mankind and the Gods; just one step closer to becoming a deity.

                A smug smirk appeared on his lips. Seifer arrogantly placed both hands on his hips and surveyed the workers. The slaves *****cough* workers were moving rocks from the quarry. It was a slow, tiring process—and that was just from watching. Each and every one of those rocks was a different size, had a different location, and a different purpose.

                _So boring_. Seifer mused while dusting away imaginary dust from the white linen loincloth-skirt mix that covered everything from his waist to a little above his knees. He blinked curiously down at his bare feet before snorting irritably. His father had set him down here to oversee the work; make sure it all went smoothly. What a ridiculous notion. How difficult was it to move rocks from point A to point B? These people didn't need to be supervised! Perhaps punished here and there, but obviously they did not need a noble figure, such as himself, watching their every move. And if they did, it was certainly a one-man job. Yet, Seifer had these personal guards trailing him—barely a breath away. They were beginning to suffocate him.

                "You—" Seifer had hardly muttered the words before the guards all tensed, showing they were ready for orders, "—go over there. Those men don't look like they are working hard enough."

                The guards immediately marched off to the said men. Seifer repressed a sigh of relief; finally, room to breath. He eyed the servant beside him that was shading his face. A short girl with white hair and crimson eyes; those very ethereal looks had won the girl freedom from slavery in the rock quarry, to a life of servitude within the palace. Seifer faintly smiled at her, but dropped the expression as soon as it appeared. Fujin was her name, a servant of very few words, but quite the defiance—Seifer liked when the people around him were not completely compliant or passive. It gave him a challenge, and Seifer always loved a good challenge.

                "Go get me something to drink," a simple order. Fujin hesitated a moment before leaving Seifer's side. He immediately regretted sending the girl away. The sudden sight of the sun temporarily blinded him. Hissing, Seifer raised an arm to cover his eyes. The piercing sun was just a small annoyance to endure in order to be standing on his own two feet without company of servants or guards. He was quite capable of taking care of himself.

                Slowly Seifer's eyes adjusted to the light. Blinking a few times, the blonde found himself staring at an approaching palanquin. Four young men, that were overly dressed for just a walk outside the palace walls, were effortlessly carrying it. Seifer didn't have to look through the white silk curtains to know what royal figure sat inside.

                "What is the reason for this rare, and wonderful encounter—or is the pleasure of this meeting all mine?" Seifer called out sarcastically as the palanquin came to a halt a foot or two out of reach.

                "Just a simple stroll," a soft feminine voice floated out from behind the curtains. There was the faint clinking of jewelry as the occupant moved inside.

                "My dear cousin, I had no idea you enjoy the sights of slaves working," Seifer drawled while arching an inquisitive brow. He wanted to sneer, but he knew better to act rudely to this 'cousin' while in public view.

                "Hm.. I enjoy the view very much," came the casual, suggestive reply.

                "Rinoa, I highly suggest you return to the comforts of your room. That kind of game is not appreciated here," Seifer warned as he watched a delicate hand reach forward to part the curtains just enough to peek a view towards the workers.

                Rinoa was a cousin visiting from a kingdom further south. She was beautiful—or Seifer had been told; he never cared to judge since she was family. Not really family, Seifer didn't consider anyone on his mother's side to be real family. Those people were not pharaohs, just noblemen. But surely, without a doubt, Rinoa had the look and aura of royalty. She had long, straight ebony hair that circled her slender shoulders; flawless, fair skin that covered every inch of her body. Then there was her eyes, dark brown and inviting. And of course there was her body, which Seifer absolutely refused to look at because of the seductive curves.

                Seifer noticed movement behind the curtains. The immediate image of Rinoa sliding one sleek thigh over the other popped into his mind. He shuddered and looked away from the palanquin. Rinoa was a seductress; she knew exactly what she was doing. Seifer despised her too much to ever take an interest. She just caused trouble for him. But most of all, Seifer loathed the way Rinoa would order _his_ servants around to do tasks for _her_. Who cares if she is some sort of sorceress? Seifer was closer to the Gods than she could hope to achieve. She was simply a _tool_ for the Gods, and would never walk among them.

                "What is your new object of affection?" Seifer sneered, focusing his gaze where his guards were harassing a few workers. Any distraction would serve as to get his mind off of the palanquin hovering next to him.

                "That man," came the vague response.

                "I see a lot of men. Be more specific," Seifer retorted as he assessed the situation before him. Jade eyes played over the two workers and three guards. A fairly amusing scene had been going on moments before, but Seifer had been too disgusted with Rinoa to watch.

                There was a short brown haired girl dressed in a dusty tunic and short combo that hardly covered her skinny frame. She was currently being held back by another worker, a slightly taller blonde man with hair that rose up in an arch of small spikes, it reminded Seifer of a the crest of a rooster. He was well muscled, but his back riddled with white intercrossing lines, and age-old scars telling everyone exactly where that man's place was; under the whip of higher authority to be blunt. The girl was currently clutching a rock and waving it menacingly at one of the guards. From where he stood, Seifer could hear the yelling of the girl's high-pitched voice.

                "If you ever EVER touch me again I will bash—" The girl was cut off by the blonde man cupping a hand over her mouth. The guards were laughing, and Seifer managed to let out a few chuckles as well.

                "Fancy short blondes?" Seifer glanced back to the palanquin, a smirk of slight amusement mixed with disgust curving at the corner of his lips.

                "No. Do you see the man with the eyes.."

                "As apposed to the other men I see who also have eyes," Seifer muttered while looking a second time. _I see a chicken. Yes, he has eyes. My guards. I'm sure they have eyes as well. This is a waste of my ti---_

                Jade clashed with storm blue-gray. It was only for a second. Seifer scanned the bodies, trying to find the pair of eyes he had just seen. How could a storm disappear so quickly? One of the guards moved back a step, and Seifer caught a glimpse of a lithe chest only broken by a pair of arms crossed over one another in a stance of arrogance. The guard moved back into place, blocking Seifer's view.

                Curiously Seifer glanced to the white curtains and then he began to move to see around the bulk guard. It took a moment to pick out the man. He had dark brown locks that fell haphazardly over a pair of down cast eyes that Seifer just knew would be the eerie shade of gray. There was something strange about this man. Seifer looked over him a few times letting his curiosity grow a bit more with each intake of detail.

                "He has no scars.." Seifer muttered as his eyebrows knitted together in thought. The man had smooth, flawless skins, not at all like the rest of the workers. Since when did a slave not have a whip mark or two? Was he new—or what did it matter if he was? This man was a slave, and he just happened to be lucky enough to avoid being lashed. Seifer rolled his eyes back to the palanquin. "What's your point?"

                "I like him," Rinoa responded in a light tone while letting the parted curtains fall back into place.

                Seifer sneered. What an outrageous statement. This man was a _slave_. He deserved nothing better than to lick the dirt off the bottom of Seifer's shoes. Scars of no scars—and there was most likely marks on the man's back where Seifer couldn't see them. Again, the man was a slave, and the very idea of a noble figure fancying a slave (at least out of secret) was revolting.

                Jade eyes began to flicker with an angry flame. Seifer turned the fiery gaze onto the palanquin, willing the curtains to burn away with the very look. The corner of Seifer's lip was curled up in a snarl. "Tell me that you are just playing some cruel joke."

                Rinoa laughed, "No, I think he'd make a lovely addition to the palace."

                "You are not in a position to do such a thing," Seifer spoke through clenched teeth.

                "Oh, I am and I will," Rinoa replied curtly, "He will fit in nicely. You won't even notice him. After all, he has no scars and—"

                "—I can change that," Seifer spat while shifting his eyes to the guards. It took him a moment for Seifer to spot the brunet; it seemed that the man could blend into the background quite well. He drew no attention to himself, yet when Seifer laid eyes on him, the man stood out like a full moon.

                "Seize that man!" Seifer shouted while looking directly at the brunet. The guards jumped at once and reached forward to seize the short blonde. "No! The other man—there, look!"

                The guards looked blindly around the scene before seizing the unscarred brunet. Seifer smirked, pleased with himself. He looked triumphedly towards the palanquin upon hearing Rinoa sit up in alarm. Seifer didn't even look at the guards as they approached with the apprehended man. "Whip him. This man was avoiding work."

                "No!" The outburst did not come from Rinoa, which Seifer had expected. Instead it came from the petite brown haired girl.

                "Quiet Selphie or they'll whip you too," the blonde worker hissed while continuing to physically restrain the girl.

                "No Zell! They can't do that to him! He didn't do anything!" The girl, Selphie, argued while continuing to struggle against her captor.

                Seifer wore a self-satisfied smirk, retaining his gaze on Rinoa's palanquin. "Do it. Now. Twenty lashes."

                Two guards seized an arm and shoulder each and then moved to stand stationary at the brunet's sides. The third guard unhooked a small leather whip from his waist and raised the weapon high above his head.

                "Stop," Rinoa halted the guards actions with her most authoritive tone of voice, "If you so much as bruise him I will make sure you suffer a fate worse than any slave."

                All eyes were now focused on the thin white curtains. The guards were glancing between Seifer and Rinoa, debating whom to obey. Even the two slaves were staring, waiting to see the fate of their friend.

                "Take him to the palace. Give him some servant garments. I want him to be ready by the time I return," Rinoa broke the silence with the crisp orders.

                Seifer ruffled at the woman's words. There she was again, ordering _his_ men around. The guards were looking expectantly at their Prince. Seifer gave a curt nod to agree with Rinoa's orders. Fine, he would play her stupid little game. Seifer settled his eyes on the brunet as he was being carried away. It was a surprise, however, to find the seized man glaring hatefully back at him. Seifer smirked at the storm brewing in a sea of blues and grays. Yes, Seifer would agree to this pathetic arrangement. He'd get Rinoa back for this disgrace. He would win at her sad little game of power.

                The brunet was hauled away, leaving Seifer to smirk at Rinoa's palanquin. He could feel her smiling back at him, probably thinking she had won.

                _You may have won this battle, but the war has just started_, Seifer thought as he watched the palanquin march off towards the palace. He let the smirk turn into an irate sneer. Turning on the workers that were staring speechless, Seifer found a piece of his arrogant self regained. "Get back to work."


	2. First Encounter

**Chapter Two: First Encounter**

                The following morning Seifer was on the prowl. He had been busy yesterday and had not seen Rinoa's new servant since the rock quarry. Ever since the brunet had dared to glare at him, Seifer had been itching to bump shoulders with the other. It sent a chill down his back—a rush of adrenaline when he looked into those storm cobalt eyes that were so defiant. Seifer would make sure to put in the effort in breaking this particular slave.

                Seifer rounded the corner, the long red skirt brushed over his ankles. He had decided to remain inside the cool palace today. That meant he did not have to face the hot, drying sun. It also meant that Seifer could wear something more to his comfort—a long red skirt made of a breathable fabric. Dark green patterns were woven through the cloth and it hung loosely around his frame. Red was the known color for passion, strength. Green could be seen as greed, jealousy, or envy; but mainly it matched well with Seifer's eyes. He was attired with his usual set of gold and silver jewelry, and he was wearing no shirt so he had a bare chest as he felt most comfortable.

                Stepping around a servant that was carrying a basin of water, Seifer wondered briefly where his sought prey might be hiding. He glanced around the hallway and decided that he did not want to prowl around Rinoa's room, which was currently in this hallway. Because then it would be far too obvious to what is plans were. Seifer wanted every element of surprise in this war between him and his sorceress cousin.

                Yes, a sorceress. It was a rare gift given from the Gods. Rinoa was able to channel their powers, and sometime even let the Gods enter the physical realm. As much as Seifer envied the ability, he always reminded himself that Rinoa was simply a tool that the Gods used to channel their energy into the physical realm. Besides, channellers such as Rinoa always went insane. No mortal could handle the true power of the Gods; the fiery fury of Ifrit; the beautiful coldness of Shiva; the electric storm of Quezacolt; the chaotic black void---Well, the many diverse powers of the Gods.

                Seifer came to the end of the hallway sooner than expected. Thoughts of the numerous Gods fluttered through his mind. It was always good to dwell on the great power and respect that the deities deserved, then one day he would make a great Pharaoh that the Gods would respect in return.

                After his mind cleared, Seifer settled his eyes on the bulk of a door sentry that stood alert at the very end of the hall. Seifer stared for a moment, then waved his hand in front of the guard's face. There was no response; the sentry simply stared unblinking at the rest of the hallway.

                "Raijin," Seifer snapped his fingers in front of the man's eyes. The dark-skinned guard jumped to life, nearly dropping his long spear in the process. He wiped the corner of his mouth and quickly regained his composure. Shoulders went straight, chest puffed out in an imitating pose.

                "Cut it out, I know you were sleeping," Seifer smiled in a friendly gesture. He lightly tapped Rajin's chest with the back of his hand. "Wake up now, I need to ask you a question."

                Raijin's shoulders sagged as he let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks Seif—My Prince. It just gets so boring standin' around 'ere, ya know?"

                "Save the excuses," Seifer waved his hand through the air then crossed his arms over his broad chest. He turned his back to the guard and scanned the hallway. "Have you seen any one new around the palace lately?"

                "Uhm, well," Raijin stuttered with a dumbfounded expression. "I don't really see anyone, ya know? It's hard to say. I haven't seen anyone suspicious if that's what ya mean."

                Seifer ran a hand through his gold blonde hair in a gesture of mild frustration. "It wouldn't be someone suspicious. It's a new servant. He's young with dark brown hair and beautiful eyes—"

                "Beautiful eyes?" Raijin's face twisted in genuine thought.

                "Er, well, I guess," Seifer narrowed his eyes at the curtains lining one side of the hallway. Silently he scolded himself for having a lack of a better term to describe the brunet's blue-gray eyes. "They're out of the ordinary, I suppose they could be described as beautiful—not that a servant deserves such flattery."

                "No no, I think I know who you are talking about. I think he stopped 'ere.. he was lookin' at me, ya know, like he knew I was sleepin'.." Raijin trailed off while squinting up at the ceiling. He muttered a few words then gazed inquisitively at Seifer. "How high do ya think he was?"

                Seifer grimaced at the question. He didn't know the brunet's height. At the time of their first meeting, the man was being restrained between two guards. Seifer sighed while letting his arms fall loosely to his sides. He then lifted one hand and made a cutting motion through the air around his chin. "He was about—"

                The words froze at the tip of his tongue. Seifer had just passed a man around that height, and come to think of it he had dark hair. That servant, he was suspicious. One reason, Seifer had to step around _him_. Usually servants moved out of Seifer's way, either out of respect or fear.

                _Damn him_, Seifer scowled mentally while storming down the hall, leaving Raijin in confusion. The guard raised his hand to about where Seifer had been guessing—obviously still trying to figure out who the Prince was seeking.

                Seifer continued to move purposely down the hall as he muttered curses harsh enough to match Ifrit's fury. How could he just walk by that slave? Just pass by like he was nothing. Well, technically the man _was_ nothing. But he was, however, an important piece in Seifer's secret war with Rinoa for the next few days. A sly smirked crossed Seifer's lips. The servant might think it was a privilege to be in the interest of such royalty, but it was quite the opposite.

                Seifer rounded a corner then paused. This was the last place he had seen the servant. It wasn't that long ago, so the brunet had to have gone into one of the nearby rooms. Mentally Seifer noted that one of the doors led to Rinoa's living quarters. Avoiding those, Seifer looked in the nearest room. It was a small guest room, this one unoccupied.

                Seifer sneered. Was this really necessary? It was not like he had anything better to do with his day, but it was so degrading. He should not be seeking a slave; he should simply call and have that man be brought before him.

                Someone exited the room belonging to Rinoa; a male servant carrying a vase. No one special. Seifer opened a second room and growled when he found the same vacant space. Suddenly he turned, "You there."

                The servant stalled then continued walking away. Seifer smirked and began to follow the man, it seemed he had found his prey. Besides, no _male_ servants were allowed in Rinoa's room. And absolutely no one ignored the Pharaoh's son. Seifer called out again, but the servant continued walking. Who did this slave think he was? He was acting like being bumped from the rock quarry to the palace made him some kind of nobleman. Well, if that were the case, Seifer would make sure to fix that personally.

                Snapping his arm forward, Seifer seized the man's arm in a rough grip. He then forcefully flung the servant around so that they could face one another. The vase, that was being carried, slipped out of the brunet's hold and shattered against the marble floor.

                Seifer sneered, but the man was keeping his head tilted towards the floor to avoid any eye contact. Usually Seifer would take that as a sign of surrendering, but with this man those subtle gestures had entirely different meanings. It was complete disrespect and mocking. That exciting chill ran up Seifer's spine,  "Look at what you did, fool."

                The brunet offered no reply. Instead he pulled his arm out of Seifer's grasp then kneeled to the floor to begin picking up the jagged fragments. Seifer cocked his head to the side when the servant had not apologized. He pressed his foot down onto a large piece of pottery that the brunet was about to grab. It broke under the weight and burst into a dozen smaller pieces. The servant ignored this and began to scoop up the pieces into his hands.

                "Aren't you going to apologize for breaking one of the pharaoh's pots?" Seifer hissed down at the head of brown hair. "You should be groveling before your prince, begging for mercy. Are you blind, deaf, or just plain stupid?"

                Seifer fisted his fingers in the servant's hair, making the brunet still his actions and visibly tense. A pleased smile spread across Seifer's face. Was that fear he saw in the other? Seifer began to tilt the man's head back in order to gaze into the blue-gray orbs, expecting to see the fear mirrored in those peculiar eyes.

                The smile fell, and Seifer narrowed his jade eyes when he found no such fear. Instead the man's eyes were faded to a dull gray and glaring hatefully back. This slave was certainly foolish. Seifer tightened his fingers with a feral grin. Just then another figure came out of the room, the very resident of the room, Rinoa.

                "What is going on here?" She demanded after eyeing the two men.

                Seifer's fingers loosened slightly and the servant instantly jerked his head out of the blonde's grasp. Seifer shot the defiant brunet an annoyed glare before turning his attention to his cousin. "Nothing that concerns you."

                "He is my servant, therefore it concerns me," Rinoa stepped out of the doorway, pulling the ends of a long white dress out behind her.

                Seifer arrogantly planted his hands onto his hips and straightened to his full height to tower over Rinoa, "Actually, everyone in this palace is under my orders, therefore he is my servant, and I can do anything with him and it would not concern you."

                Rinoa usually pale skin flustered with annoyance. She narrowed her eyes on Seifer, "He doesn't have to listen to you. He is under my orders. I took him here, not you."

                Seifer smiled. So, this subject got on the sorceress' nerves. How pleasing. "I hate to remind you, but he came from _my_ rock quarry. He is one of my father's slaves; therefore he has to listen to me. I allowed him to be in the palace. Besides, the only people that don't have to listen to me are the servants you brought with you from Aldazir. Understand?"

                Rinoa ignorantly flipped her hair over her shoulder, sending a musical clinking of hair beads through the air. She pivoted her back towards Seifer, ignoring that he existed. She inclined her head towards the servant. "Squall, forget the pot. Return to my room. I'll send someone else to clean up the mess. I have more important tasks for you to attend."

                "Ah, the dog has a name," Seifer mused while watching the brunet rise. Squall then walked past, nearly brushing shoulders with Seifer. The tall blonde smirked yet again. He'd break this Squall. One way or another, Seifer would break this strong willed man.

He watched Squall walk towards Rinoa's room. Eyes were focused on the man's back and for the first time Seifer took in the fact that Squall was wearing the light gray tunic and shorts that all servants were required to wear. The point was that the tunic covered Squall's back. Seifer was convinced that the brunet had whip scars. No slave worked in the quarry without wearing the brand. Seifer was determined to show Rinoa that her servant was far from being perfect.

                "You better keep him on a short leash," Seifer coolly threatened earning an icy glare from Rinoa. She turned in a musical ring of jewelry then disappeared after Squall.

                Seifer kicked at the broken pieces of clay pottery. What made that servant so special to Rinoa? It was pathetic how she was protecting him. A person of her standard should not waste her time with dogs like Squall. It was a bad reputation for the palace. Almasys did not favor slaves. Rinoa was a thorn in the side, and Seifer would be sure to remove her. He would open her eyes; teach her an important lesson.


	3. Invisible Scars

**Chapter Three: Invisible Scars**

                "The west side is becoming over crowded. They request that rocks from the mine be used to build more houses," Fujin read off a pamphlet. She twirled an inked peacock feather between her slender fingers. Red eyes glanced to the blonde lounging in a large cushioned chair.

                "Their request is declined. Tell them to spread out to the east side. Also, run the idea by my father that we should allow families only to have one child. They are breeding and spreading as rapidly as gnats.," Seifer replied while grabbing a small pillow to toss into the air. He caught the pillow with a side-glance to his assistant. "Next?"

                Fujin wrote carefully on the canvas before continuing, "Nothing more, except that your father wants you and Miss Rinoa to be present tonight at dinner."

                Grimacing, Seifer tossed the pillow towards the other side of his large room. It slid across the floor until bumping into the wall. His father never made time to spend with both him and Rinoa. Whatever the reason, Seifer assumed it not to be good. Even if it was a harmless meeting, it could only last so long. Both he and his father were strong headed, sharp tongued and just plain stubborn. They'd end up arguing about something as silly as wearing the wrong clothes for certain occasions—which Seifer did often. Today he was wearing something similar to servant's tunic and shorts. The only differences were that Seifer's was slightly v-cut at the neck, pointed at the shoulders and lined with silver.

                He crossed his arms with a childish pout, "Is there a reason why?"

                "He didn't say why, but I assume one of his servants has informed him about yours and Miss Rinoa's frequent disagreements," Fujin replied while rolling up the parchment. She arched an eyebrow at Seifer's antics, "I suggest you be on your best behavior. Your father has been rather moody this week."

                Seifer grunted. Fujin turned and began for the door. Seifer twisted on the chair to look over the back and speak to his retreating assistant. "Have you seen a new servant around the palace as of late?"

                Fujin paused at the door, which was nothing more than layers of dark colored silk draped over the entrance. "Yes. What would you like to know about him?"

                Seifer smiled. He always knew Fujin had a sharp eye. "Tell me anything you know about him"

                Fujin looked off to the side in thought, " His name is Squall Leonhart. He use to work in the rock quarry but Rinoa ordered that he be moved to the palace as one of her personal servants. She fancies his looks and body, of that I am sure---"

                At this point Seifer snorted. Fujin smiled then continued, "Not that he can compare with you, My Prince. He is stubborn, silent and cold—like Shiva herself had touched him."

                "Can he speak?" Seifer questioned while trying to appear less than interested.

                "I do not know. However, I would not say he is a mute. The look in his eyes shows understanding. I think he simply refuses to talk," Fujin answered offhandedly.

                "Thank you, that will be all for now," Seifer said while sinking back into the chair. Fujin pushed through the layers of silk and was gone.

                Seifer wasn't really interested in learning about Squall. He only asked so he could figure out a way to get under the brunet's skin—that way he could also get under Rinoa's skin as well. In the past days, he had made a habit out of attempting to trip the brunet whenever they passed in the halls, or taunting him when he was working with the other servants. It was little things, but it was so much fun to torment both Squall and Rinoa at the same time.

                _Speaking of Rinoa_, Seifer thought as he glanced at the far side of his room where a gape in the wall served as a window. Judging by the amount of light creeping in through the see-through curtains (meant to keep the bugs out), Seifer could assume that it was late in the afternoon. He might as well go and personally break the bad news to Rinoa.

                Hopping out of the chair, Seifer slinked through his doorway and down the halls. Just a few twists and turns later and he was outside Rinoa's room. Just as he was about to enter uninvited, the curtains parted as a servant stepped out. Instead of going around, this servant stopped in front of Seifer and gazed up at the blonde as if expecting the Prince to move aside.

                "Ah, Squall. Not the person I am looking for, but someone I could always make time for," Seifer grinned as he looked down up on the glaring brunet. Such an interesting servant; was he challenging his power?

                "Where is Rinoa?" Seifer questioned with a slight narrow of his eyes. Squall didn't respond or move. Seifer sneered and stepped closer so he had to tilt his chin down in order to keep direct eye contact. "Answer me."

                Still no response. Squall made a move to step around, but Seifer seized a handful of his tunic before the first step was even taken. The blonde smiled with a malicious glint in his emerald eyes. Squall tried to pull back, but Seifer only obliged by stepping forward to push Squall through the curtains and into Rinoa's empty room.

A heavy perfume of burning candles flooded Seifer's sense. He sneezed, earning an 'ugh' from Squall. Smirking, Seifer leaned forward and quickly wiped his face on the brunet's shoulder. Squall responded by shoving him away with a sneer of disgust.

                "Just who do you think you are?" Seifer question was rhetorical. He was clearly amused with Squall's reaction. Sooner or later the brunet had to say something in retaliation. "You act like you are some son of a Pharaoh."

                Seifer began to advance on Squall. For every step forward, Squall took a retreating step backwards. "I think the perfume of this room has gone to your head. It seems you are forgetting you place, _slave_."

                Squall stumbled, nearly tripping backwards over a short chair. Seifer pursued, shoving the chair out of his way to send it clattering across the marble floor. "You are nothing Squall. You don't deserve a name. You are a slave, no better than a rag to wipe away my sweat and snot. You belong under my feet, so you need to stop acting otherwise."

                Squall was inches from bumping his back into the wall. Seifer stopped upon seeing his prey was trapped for the time being. " But here you stand, pretending to be someone important when you're not. You are a slave and you must have the scars to prove it!"

                Seifer lunged and Squall ducked under the blonde's arms and made a dash for the door. Seifer twirled and grabbed the back of Squall's tunic before the servant could get too far. He then jerked Squall to the ground, hearing a satisfying rip of cloth in the process. Seifer quickly pinned the brunet belly down on the hard floor, and the moved to straddle the other's hips to keep him in place. Squall was trying to push himself up with his arms, but soon the side of his face was being pressed into the marble by Seifer's strong hand on the back of his head. Squall still managed to struggle, trying to roll in order to throw the blonde off.

                "You _have_ to have the scars. You can't have worked in the quarry without receiving a whip or two. If not there, then from somewhere else," Seifer hissed down at the brunet that growled angrily back up to him. Without warning, Seifer snatched the back collar of Squall's tunic and viciously jerked backwards. The ring of fabric choked Squall before the threads eventually ripped apart. Squall reached for his throat as his back shuddered in a fit of coughs.

                Seifer ignored the brunet under him and proceeded to rip away the gray tunic to expose Squall's back. He was desperate to find some imperfection. That way he could use it against Rinoa. He could throw it in her face how she is flawed herself, and how low on the scale of power she truly was.

                After pulling away the fabric, Seifer let go of Squall's head and used both of his hands to examine the other's back. It was flawless. Seifer ran his fingers over the smooth skin, searching for a scar. The only thing he found was a small mole on Squall's left shoulder blade.

                Seifer didn't notice that Squall had gone still beneath his touch. He merely continued to run his hands over Squall's well muscled shoulders, down the easy palpable spine, curving at the slim waist and then running his fingers feather-light up the side of Squall's ribs—making the brunet shiver against the floor. Seifer repeated this pattern several times. He was so obsessed with trying to find some trace of a scar, that he didn't notice the whisper-like rustle of silk.

                "What are you doing!?"

                Seifer's head snapped up to see Rinoa looking appalled at the scene before her. One of her female servants was shying behind a layer of silk. Seifer's eyes switched to Squall. He could see the brunet appearing to be struggling in order to breathe. He had rapid, shallow breaths; warm breaths that fogged against the marble floor.

                "I—" Seifer cut himself off and began to rise. Squall immediately rolled, throwing Seifer to the side. The blonde bared his teeth in a snarl. He then kicked his foot out, catching Squall's hip and succeeding in pushing the brunet's body away. Squall kept his silence and glared for all he was worth.

                "Stop it!" Rinoa shrieked and stepped between the two men.

Seifer stood and began to dust himself off. As an after thought he wiped the palms of his hands over the front of his tunic. Seifer had just touched a slave—not just touched as in grabbed an arm. What he had done to the other bordered on the line of caressing. Squall was not just a slave either; he was another male. Seifer's action had been wrong on so many different levels.

                "Nothing. I wasn't doing anything to him," Seifer responded as calmly as he could manage. He had turned his back to Squall, refusing to look at what he might have done to the brunet.

                "Don't pretend that nothing happened. His shirt! What were you doing to him!?" Rinoa pressed while kneeling next to Squall. She touched his bare shoulder and watched him pull away to sit up. Rinoa face looked concerned as she eyed Squall, "What did he do to you?"

                "Yes, ask the mute," Seifer muttered while glancing over his shoulder. Squall was still glaring at him, but it looked so pathetic. The front of his shirt was sagging down, exposing a good portion of his chest. His right cheek was bright red from being pressed into the floor. Seifer looked away.

                Rinoa wrinkled her nose at Seifer with a light shake of her head, sending thin strands of black falling off her shoulders. She then turned back to Squall and tilted her head to the side with a disarming smile, "Tell me what he did to you."

                "He did nothing," an unfamiliar voice mumbled.

                Seifer whirled to look at the female servant, but the voice didn't come from her. He turned his eyes to the only other person in the room. Squall. The man Seifer had just assaulted was saying nothing had happened. It was a surprise to hear the servant speak. Seifer had just won in three different ways with those simple words. First, he had gotten Squall to speak. Second, he had obviously obtained some dominance over the brunet in order to have him lying. Third, one point for Seifer, Zero for Rinoa. It felt good to be winning.

                "What.. you can't honestly tell me that he did nothing to you. I saw him sitting on top of you! Your shirt is ripped!" Rinoa argued growing angry. Squall didn't respond, having said his words for the day. He turned his face away and looked at the floor letting brown locks of hair hide his eyes.

                Seifer weakly smiled, "You heard him. Nothing happened."

                "You made him lie," Rinoa stood and turned on the tall blonde with an accusing glare.

                "Oh?" Seifer mocked, regaining his arrogant smirk, "And how did I do that?"

                "Like you always do it. You threatened him," Rinoa spoke lowly. The room temperature dropped sending an unpleasant chill up Seifer's spine.

                "I haven't threatened him," Seifer paused for effect. The back of his mind was telling him to get out of that room. "At least not yet."

                Seifer moved before Rinoa could freeze him to the spot. He walked over to Squall and doubled while seizing the brunet's chin in one hand. He tilted Squall's face up to his own and smiled at the glare he met. The next moment was taken to admire the raging ocean that was beginning to form. Metallic blue waves rising and breaking while mixing with the swirling gray clouds that threatened to spark lightning. The energy in those eyes was remarkable.

                "Seifer, what are you doing?" Rinoa's growl cut off his daze.

                The blonde's smile broadened. That's right, he was working on threatening Squall. "I may have not found a scar on you, but I can change that."

                Squall knocked Seifer's hand away, stood and walked towards the other end of the room. Seifer smirked and took a few steps towards the door. Jade eyes adverted to the ruffled sorceress. "I'll see you at dinner, my father requests that both of us be present."

                "Get out already," Rinoa shot at him.

                Seifer ducked through the curtains and retreated down the hall. He knew he had royally pissed off Rinoa. She had been on the verge of using a God's power against him. It had been worth the trouble though. Who knew that a slave could be a source of weakness?

                Laughing to himself, Seifer began to job down the hall to use up the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He felt excited. Seifer had found the perfect way to torment Rinoa. It would be his revenge for all the times she had under minded him. It would be fun as well—Squall wouldn't just give in, he was.. stubborn.

                _No!_

Seifer came to an abrupt halt. It was wrong. Seifer should not have enjoyed what he did to Squall. He should not still feel the warm sensation of Squall's skin under his fingertips. It was disturbing to say the least. Seifer wiped his hands over his shirt for a second time. He walked the rest of the way to his room to regain his composure before heading out for dinner.


	4. Fire and Ice

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Anyway, I don't want to answer any questions because I'm afraid of giving the story away. 

  
"Fine clothes may disguise, but foolish words will disclose a fool."

But I will explain a few things. Zamir and Aldazir are fictional places. This world has a culture and landscape like Egypt, but it is not _in_ Egypt. It's in my own little world that I have yet to name. This is going to be the last update for a while. I'm heading to Mexico for a family vacation. Expect updates after the 15th. ^^

  
_________________________________________________ Chapter Four: Fire and Ice 

                The sun lowered to sit lazily on the wave-crested horizon. The sand-filled sea was now an ocean of fire. Large dunes reached up into the sky in a frozen dance of a raging fire. Even the sky was burning in streaks of dark oranges and reds. Dusk was upon Zamir, and with each passing minute the sand swallowed the sun just a little bit more.

                Seifer admired the sight of the desert from his room window. There was nothing else in the world, that Seifer knew of, that could capture so much beauty. The endless dunes of sand also portrayed a wide spectrum of different emotions. The most contrasting were the ones that were also the closest together in terms of time, and Seifer had the pleasure of watching this particular duo.

                The desert evenings were fire; it was passion; anger; pride; determination—all wrapped into the burning colors of the fading sun. In a few moments the scene would be the complete opposite. When the sun would sink below the horizon, the moon would rise to take its place. Then a sheet of ice would replace the desert that once was a rolling land of undying fire. The land would be draped in shades of ethereal blues and soft grays. It would portray sadness; tranquility; silence.

                Seifer turned away from the window before he became too entranced with the scenery. He didn't want to find himself admiring those colors again. Blue-gray; it was beginning to haunt him.

                Shaking the thoughts from his head, Seifer headed out into the hallway, then towards the main section of the palace. He was already late for dinner. Seifer knew this, but he could care less. His delayed arrival was because he had decided to take a hot bath to erase earlier actions. He had to clean himself of the filth he felt clinging to his skin.

                Slaves were dirty and diseased. Seifer was a prince and could no afford to risk contaminating himself. What would his father think?—He shuddered at the mere thought of his father and instinctively began to shell himself away in his mind to hide the momentary weakness. He never cared to be close to his father, but there had always been that underlying pressure he felt to sum up to his father's expectations. It wasn't a simple task; the pharaoh was not an easy man to please.

                A servant saw Seifer approaching and obediently drew the curtains back to open up the pathway into the dining hall. As soon as he passed through the doorway, he could feel the tension in the air. More than likely it was a direct cause of his late arrival, but Seifer couldn't make an appearance before his father when he had been so unclean.

                "How nice of you to finally join us," Rinoa's voice shattered the silence. She smiled knowingly at her cousin, causing Seifer to arch an eyebrow in question.

                Seifer couldn't find his voice to retort to Rinoa's mocking. He trained his eyes on the far wall and quietly sat in his usual place; across from the sorceress and to the left of his father. It felt like it had been years since he had sat here with this particular company. It was an uncomfortable situation that Seifer wished to be over.

                He glanced down at his empty plate, then to the few items of food that were left on the table. It seems they had eaten without him.

                "I would expect a pharaoh's son to be able to keep track of time," The man to Seifer's immediate left spoke. It was a deep and powerful voice that belonged to his father. The words caused Seifer to cringe like he just had one of his fingers broken.

                _A pharaoh's son.. Why can't you say 'my son' at least? You've become so infatuated with that title_. Seifer bitterly moaned to himself while staring listlessly at the gold plate on the table. The burdening thought began to trouble him: he would never be good enough in his father's eyes.

                "I've been informed about your recent behavior," the man started again. Dark green eyes burned into Seifer, "Do you realize how bad your childish behavior is making me look?"

                _No_, Seifer replied mentally. It was always about his father, always. Seifer's head slightly fell forward under the harsh gaze. He wished at time like this that he had longer hair to block out his eyes completely. Kind of like how Squ—No, not like a slave's.

                "Rinoa tells me that you are also attacking servants for no reason," Seifer's father continued as if the silence was the most common thing between father and son. "It puts a bad reputation on our family name. You will stop this behavior at once. I don't need a son that can't take care of his problems without resorting to violence."

                _You don't even want me as your son, is that what you are saying?_

                Seifer slowly lifted his eyes to glare menacingly at the black haired girl across the table. That witch. This was all her doing. How pathetic could she be to tell his father about that little situation? Why can't she fight her own battles? This was weak; to resort to these measures—whining to the pharaoh, his father.

                "I don't see anything wrong in what I did," Seifer finally found his voice; albeit weak, but at least he was speaking. Besides, he couldn't just sit by and let Rinoa win. "I'm not the one bringing dirty slaves in from the quarry to work in the palace."

                The pharaoh's attention shifted to the frowning sorceress, "Is this true?"

                Rinoa lightly sneered at Seifer before putting on an innocent smile and turning to face her Uncle. She tilted her head to the side in a child-like pose. "Yes, it is true. But I had him cleaned up. Besides, he doesn't really belong down there anyway."

                Seifer resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the misguiding voice Rinoa was using, "You have no right to do such a thing."

                "Seifer," his father cut off the argument before it had a chance to flare, "Rinoa is here as our guest and has the freedom to do as she pleases. As her cousin, you should respect that."

                "She is not my cousin," Seifer growled but adverted his eyes away from his glaring father. "You have three wives. I consider none of _their_ family to be _our_ family."

                "**-I-** will say who is family and who is not!" Seifer's father voiced raised.

                Seifer instantly went silent. He absolutely loathed Rinoa at this moment. Everything was her fault. If it weren't for her meddling, he and his father would be getting along. But no, she had to come and cause trouble like the snake she is. How in Bahamut's name did she manage to get his father, the pharaoh—the rising and setting sun of the people—how did she get him to eat out of the palm of her hand?

                Seifer glanced over to his cousin to look for an answer to his question. She was ignoring him and focusing all her attention on the pharaoh. Rinoa smiled and raised both arms to push her hair back over shoulders. This action caused her to arch her back, making her breasts push forward against the thin white dress she wore.

                _Disgusting_, Seifer adverted his eyes to look at his father. It only took a second to estimate where the dark eyes of the pharaoh were aimed. It was the most disturbing realization that Seifer had ever experienced. His father was looking at _Rinoa_ with lust and primitive desire.

                _As I said, she is not considered family_, Seifer felt his throat close off, making it difficult to breath. It was no longer a mystery to why his father allowed Rinoa to constantly visit the palace. Seifer managed to let out a weak, bitter laugh then pushed himself away from the table. Two pairs of eyes were on him in question, but Seifer offered no excuse for his actions; he simply turned and briskly walked out of the room.

                He needed to breath. The air in the dining room had become too hot and think. It was choking him, making his eyes water. Seifer was going to pass out if he didn't get as far away as possible from that room—escape from that shame his father made. If it had been _anybody_ else that his father had been eyeing, then Seifer would not have cared. But it wasn't just some random woman; it was that seducing sorceress. She was using the pharaoh, _his father_, as a tool against him.

                How could his father be so weak? Almasys are not suppose to fall into the traps of their enemies. Almasys are suppose to be two steps ahead of everyone else. _Why?_

                Seifer drifted blindly down the hall as he tried to sort out the disorder in his mind. Silently he prayed to the to the god of Chaos, Diablo. Seifer prayed for the deity to take away the confusing darkness; to leave him in peace.

                He stalled in a hallway that had covered windows lining the right side. This was where Rinoa's room was, how had he subconsciously wandered here? It didn't matter at the moment though. Seifer stalked over to the nearest curtain and pushed it aside so he had access to the open space in the wall. He climbed onto the windowsill and let the curtain fall back in to place behind him.

                Tranquility..

                Seifer leaned forward faintly to look down upon the sleeping city. The small windows of the homes were shadowed and lifeless. Seifer was alone here. No one was around; he was completely, utterly alone. But now he also had peace, and it was from the desert. He could see it just beyond the edges of the city. The soft relaxing colors of the blue gray sand drove away the chaos at once. Seifer sank down to sit on the sill with one leg hanging over the edge. He stared out into the peaceful desert—it was truly an ocean now. At least it would be, if only the sandy waves could move. And then, it would be the very scene of Siren.

                Seifer laid his head on his up-bent knee. He began to imagine the goddess out there among the tall waves. She would be singing a sweet serenade that could express all the emotions of the blue desert in a single note. Seifer began to close his eyes as the spellbinding voice of Siren started to lull him to sleep.

                Briefly his mind drifted over the events of the past few days as he relaxed. Just as he was about to drift away, crisp footsteps on marble broke the sweet melody. Seifer stirred then froze against the window to listen intently to the noise. Slowly he lifted his arm and pushed aside the curtain to peer into the dark hallway. A streak of white disappeared into one of the nearby rooms.

                _Rinoa.._ Seifer's chest tightened as his eyes flared up with immense hatred. All of the lulling notes of Siren's soothing song drifted into silence. It was for the better, her voice was not only beautiful; it lured men into danger. If Seifer had fallen asleep, it was more than likely he would have fallen out of the window—not just a little fall into the sand either. The palace was built up high to be closer to the Gods. The window that Seifer had decided to perch upon was around two to three stories high, and the ground below was hard-packed earth, not cushioning sand. Seifer would have hurt himself, if the fall did not kill him.

                He stood and silently walked into the hallway. Ifrits fury burned savagely in his jade eyes. Seifer was going to kill that woman. It wouldn't be that difficult. He would just wrap his hands around her small neck and easily cut off her air supply. First she would struggle, and then she would begin to turn blue around the lips. After a while she'll fall still, but Seifer would continue to throttle her to make sure. He would strangle her until he was sure Tornberry had taken her soul.

                Stilling by the curtains to Rinoa's room, Seifer listened to a muffled voice inside. It moved and drifted to a distant part of the room. He slid in between the layers of silk and stalked across the marble floor. There was a flickering light, probably candles, coming from the bedroom area. Seifer hugged the wall and paused before turning the corner.

                Was he really going to kill Rinoa? He had never taken anyone's life before. He wasn't even sure he could go through with it. Yet, Seifer had to stop this game from continuing. Rinoa was going too far by messing with his father. Most of all, Seifer couldn't stand to lose. Almasys never lost.

                Carefully Seifer leaned to the side in order to peak around the corner. Candles burned along the wall giving a partial lighting to the room. Seifer peered at the see-through curtains that circled the bed. There was a figure sitting on the bed. Seifer leaned a bit more for a clearer view.

                Suddenly a second figured sat up from the bed and leaned over to the first. So, it seemed Rinoa was with someone. No matter. Seifer was already dedicated to his plan. _Both_ of them would have to die.

                "You know what I like?" Rinoa's voice caused Seifer to jump in surprise. He pressed against the wall to hide himself. A hungry curiosity took over him, so Seifer simply watched and listened.

                Rinoa's figure moved behind the man (not like anyone else would be in her bed. The question was: who was it _this_ time?) She draped her arms over his shoulders and lightly played her fingers over his bare chest. Rinoa rested her chin on his shoulder and turned her face towards him. The man turned his head away from the sorceress. With that single action, Seifer found the answer to his question.

                _Squall_..

                "I like it when someone caresses me," Rinoa whispered suggestively into Squall's ear. She ran her fingers up his chest, over his strong shoulders and then began to slowly move her hands down his arms; making sure to trance her fingers feather-light in the defined lines of his muscles. "Like this."

                Seifer felt his chest tightened for the second time. Was it anger? Pain? Disgust? What was he experiencing by watching these two exchange foreplay—or rather, watch Rinoa slither her hands over Squall's smooth, warm skin. Seifer didn't have to imagine to know what Squall's skin felt like when touched.

                But this scene was sickening, he decided. Rinoa was tainting Squall with her touch. She was a venomous snake coiling possessively around the brunet—Wait, was it not the other way around? Squall, the slave, was contaminating Rinoa—but she was a vile serpent that needed its head severed—but he was a worthless slave that deserved the biting end of a whip.

                What was he so upset for?

                Seifer continued to wordlessly watch. Rinoa had moved so that she sat in front of Squall. She took one his hands and pressed it to the side of her face. Squall kept his own face adverted. Seifer silently praised the man for resisting—for seeing Rinoa for the despicable person she truly was.

                She slid the left strap of her dress off of her shoulder and pushed it down. From his position, Seifer could only see Rinoa's back—but he knew far too well what the woman was doing. Rinoa began to move Squall's hand down the side of her face, her neck, then finally over her chest where she held his hand over her exposed breast. Seifer saw Squall shift on the bed and try to turn his face further away from Rinoa. If only that curtain were not in the way, perhaps Seifer could see the look of distress in the brunet's eyes.

                "Do you like what you feel?" Rinoa purred.

                Seifer couldn't take it anymore. He turned away and left the room as silently as he had entered. His heart was caught in his throat. Each beat pounded in his head and seemed to choke him. Seifer didn't know why, but what he had seen hurt. Rinoa was going too far. She was not playing fair. Do women even know how to fight properly? He should have known! He should have realized that Rinoa would sink so low..

Women were pathetic..

Seifer began to jog down the dark hallway. The steady pounding of his bare feet against the marble floor echoed down the hall, and mirrored the rapid beats of his heavy heart. Seifer couldn't see where he was going, but he knew the twists and turns of the palace like the back of his hand. He came to the end of the hall and halted in front of a slumped guard. Seifer grabbed the long spear the man was using as support. He then tore it out of the guards grip, sending the man sprawling to the floor.

"Get up you dolt," He hissed while dropping the spear to clattering against the floor next to the fallen guard.

                Raijin pushed himself back to his feet and wilted under the harsh glare from the vehement prince. "Do you need somethin', or somethin'..?"

                Seifer panted on the spot for a while. A wry grin passed over his lips. He absolutely refused to lose, "I need you to do something for me.."


	5. Impossible Craving

Author's Note: _I'm back! I just want to comment that I don't like my writing style. It discouraged me from writing the entire time while I was on vacation. I'm sorry if things don't seem to make sense, I try not to jump around or forget anything. If you see loose ends, I'm sure they will have closure as the story goes on. I do have plans for a sequel—that is if you all demand to know what happens. (but that is chapters in the future when this shall be decided) I'm not the best writer, I know this.._

_Anywho, Story quirk: This is basically all written from Seifer's point of view, except I did not do it in the first person perspective. (When I type 'I, me, mine, etc' I usually think of myself and not the character.) So, whatever you read about the other characters may not be true—this is just how Seifer sees things. And if you haven't picked up on it already, Seifer tends to delude himself into believing things rather than accepting the truth._

Chapter Five: Impossible Craving  
  


Seifer awoke to the hoarse quorking of a bird. He rolled grumpily on the bed in an attempt to ignore the noise. It had been a rough night. For the love of Bahamut! He had just gotten to sleep a few hours ago. After Seifer had spent a few moments twisting side to side, he decided to kill whatever creature had decided to act like a rooster. He hopped out of bed and immediately met the floor in a tangled heap of legs and sheets.

Growling, Seifer kicked the sheets away to free himself. He climbed to his feet and staggered towards the window. The thin curtain was pushed aside so Seifer could glare out into the cheerful morning. The cawing continued much to his annoyance. He picked up a nearby sandal and held it up in a menacing pose. Whatever was making that racket was going to get that shoe shoved down its throat. 

Jade eyes caught the movement of black wings ruffling. Seifer leaned forward and peered down at the large bird perching on a statue engraved into the side of the wall. Originally Seifer had thought it was a vulture that was making all the noise, but instead a raven sat, quirking sadly at the empty horizon.

Seifer raised his sandal, ready to throw it at the pest. Arm muscles tensed, but never released the shoe to sail through the air. He knew that a raven was a rare sight in the desert. The temple priests usually saw it as a bad omen because the raven was a pre-warning sign of death.

A sly smirked adorned the blonde's handsome face. He lowered the sandal to his waist then dropped it to the floor. Seifer tilted his head in thought as he eyed the sleek black feathers, "I hope you haven't come for me. Though, if you are looking for a snake to have for breakfast, she's on the other side.."

Tok. Tok. Quork.

Seifer blinked at the creature that continued to cry out towards the desert. He glanced towards the sand-filled horizon then back to the bird. "Oh, so you lost someone? I see. I'm alone too, it's not that bad."

The raven suddenly took to the air in a burst of black feathers. It rose up then passed over the top of the palace and Seifer swore that the bird was heading to the other side. Hopefully where that 'snake' was located. Give her a scare for her life. Stupid witch.

"I'm alone," Seifer repeated before turning back to his room and dressing. It amused him sadistically to think about truly alone he was. His cousin was bent on destroying his life; his father didn't acknowledge his existence; his mother was too busy with visiting friends in the city; there wasn't one noble figure in the city that was level-headed enough to be a decent friend. All Seifer had to comfort him was the moody desert.

There was Fujin and Raijin, but Seifer knew the two were just acting as good servants and not as friends. He wanted to call them friends, but how could he when he didn't treat them like friends? Just last night he had been overly rude to Raijin. A friend didn't do that. Besides, they were servants. Almasys didn't mingle with servants or slaves.

Well, most of the time Seifer was not suppose to socialize with them. There were some servants that he could keep as company and his father would not frown. At this thought, a pleased grin spread across Seifer's face as he finished dressing then exited his room. He walked lightly down the halls with a contentment he had been missing these past few weeks. It was going to be a great day, besides the raven and the whole death omen thing—but that was a silly priest superstition. But today, Seifer was going to take the lead in this war he was waging against Rinoa. The crafty sorceress was ahead by a point, but by the next sunrise, Seifer will have taken the lead. Just the thought of having the advantage made Seifer anxious. In fact, an early celebration was needed to rejoice his up coming victory, and the blonde prince knew a fine place to begin.

Seifer traveled through the palace in a daze. He slipped through a set of dark red silk curtains and strolled into a room that was large compared to others. Most of the rooms in the palace were plain and boring; nothing but bare stonewalls of a tan color. This was different though; narrow strips of silk ran to and fro around the room, masking corners and creating separate quarters. Large and small pillows were set along the floor in tight circles. All of it had one thing in common, everything was done in shades of red, the very color of passion.

A small commotion broke out upon Seifer's entrance. The smiling prince casually walked over to a large pillow and sat himself onto the feathery cushion. He stretched his long legs out over the plush rug with a complete look of relaxation.

Slender bodies began to emerge from behind the silken drapes while others rose from the ground where they had taken rest. All of them softly chimed with small bells that were attached to their clothes, which was nothing more then strips of soft golden fabric that covered the necessary regions. They were girls; a mixture of dancers, singers and other forms of entertainers. Each one had gold specks that sparkled over their exposed skin with each movement. They huddled around their prince.

"Ooh, Seifer! It's been such a long time since we've seen you," One blonde headed girl crooned while caressing her hand over his bicep.

A few girls quietly giggled. A brunette moved to Seifer's shoulders and began to massage the tense muscles, "We were beginning to think you had abandoned us! We've missed you~"

Seifer smiled as the girls all murmured in agreement. He let his eyes drift close as they continued to endlessly flatter him. His father had hired these girls to live in the castle. That man has such a weakness for a beautiful woman. Seifer was sure the pharaoh stole some time to come in here and be graciously commented without end. It probably fed the man's ego—just as it would for Seifer's. 

"We thought you found yourself a girl to love," Another spoke while taking a comb and gently brushing it through Seifer's golden hair. The other girls made various noises of disapproval at the idea of Seifer having a girlfriend.

"No, no ladies. I've just been having some problems," Seifer spoke while soaking in the attention.

"Aww, what's been troubling our prince?" The blonde woman asked as she took one of his large hands in her smaller one.

"It's my cousin.." he started but paused when one of the girls snorted.

"That Rinoa, how dare she bother our prince," one voice spoke and then they all agreed afterwards. At once the commotion started again. They began to speak all at once. Seifer only managed to pick out a few phrases here and there.

"That tramp—"

"—why is she here?"

"She is so bossy—"  
  


"—Yeah, acting like some princess—"

"—She makes one ugly princess."

They all laughed together, even Seifer managed to chuckle a few times at their antics. These girls were the perfect cure to his foul mood. Everyone of them was beautiful and wouldn't hesitate to see to his needs. It was just the thing his egotistical nature needed to get him back on track. So enthralled with the attention, Seifer didn't notice the meek boy enter the room and timidly approach the group. "Uhm, e-excuse me.."

Seifer opened his jade eyes to narrow slits that allowed him just enough vision to examine the boy. He instantly recognized him to be a messenger, the green tunic and shorts was a dead give away. A knowing grin spread across Seifer's face. "What do you need, boy? Did you come in here in hopes to become a man?"

The younger flushed and glanced at the risqué ladies then glued his eyes onto his naked feet. "I have a.. um.. a message for a Miss Rinoa Heartilly. I was told that I could find her in the palace.."

Seifer made a shooing motion at two of the girls. They pouted at him before rising and exiting the room. He watched the boy fidget for a moment or two, enjoying the other's obvious discomfort. "Have a seat, she'll be here shortly. In the meantime, tell me what this message is."

"I c-can't," he stammered because of the overwhelming feeling of being in the presence of all the women. "It's for Rinoa Heartilly. I'm not allowed to tell anyone else."

"I'm her cousin, so you can tell me," Seifer pried. In truth he already knew what the message would be about, he just wanted to hear how it sounded from the boy's lips.

"Well.."

"Com'on, there is nothing that Rinoa knows that I don't know," he continued to pester.

"You don't know anything," an irate voice huffed.

Seifer raised his eyes to the doorway. He smiled brightly upon seeing Rinoa pushing aside the drapes of silk in annoyance. It was easy to pick her out, the light blue dress she wore clashed horribly with the red interior of the room. She looked ready to tear someone's arm off. This appearance only made Seifer smile amusedly then glance questioningly at the two girls who snuck in after the sorceress. The two also wore smiles of amusement that drew the prince's curiosity even more. What had they done to make Rinoa so enraged?

"What is it? You sent your stupid little girls to get me, now stop grinning like an idiot and tell me what you want," Rinoa spat while crossing her arms in an uncomfortable stance.

The girls sitting around Seifer began to whisper to one another after the direct insult towards them. Seifer relaxed against the pillow. He now refused to drop the grin, just to stir up the sorceress temper. He looped one arm around the nearest girl and pulled her into his lap. She grinned and gently curved an arm around Seifer's neck while the other softly caressed his chest.

Rinoa glared daggers at the blonde man then the giddy girl sitting happily in his lap. She then turned away with her nose pointed skyward, "You disgust me—"

"Shut up Rinoa. Your opinion does not interest me," Seifer retorted quickly. That comment had been so hypocritical of her. Who was she to say _this_ was disgusting. After what she did to his… his—Seifer growled and nodded his head towards the timid boy. "He brings a message for you."

The boy's head snapped up when he realized that he could now deliver his message, "Miss Rinoa?"

Rinoa turned to the boy with one eyebrow arched. She waited in silence for him to go on, but the boy did not catch on. "Spit it out already."

"Yes ma'am," the boy bowed his head in shame before continuing. "Your father orders that you come back to Aldazir at once."

Rinoa's lip curled up in a sneer. She turned and gazed suspiciously at Seifer. "Does he have a reason why?"

"No ma'am. I was just given that message to deliver to you," The boy mumbled.

"Fine," she rolled her eyes and dismissed the messenger—who quickly led himself out.

Seifer tried to look innocent, but he knew he was not a good actor. He did the next best thing, distract himself—and with the lovely ladies around him it wasn't that difficult. Seifer pulled the girl close to him and began to whisper into her ear, "Go find Squall. Bring him to me."

The girl gave Seifer a curious look, but he just lightly pushed her away. The girl reluctantly stood up and headed out. She made sure to nearly bump shoulders into Rinoa along the way. In reaction Rinoa rolled her eyes after the woman passed. The sorceress gave Seifer once last acidic glare before storming out of the room. When she was gone, the storm of voices immediately started up once again.

"Can you believe that?"

"Did you see that dress?"

"It makes her look like a—"

"—Good thing she's leaving."

"I was ready to strangle her."

"How dare she talk to our Seifer with such disrespect!"

The attention began all over again. Some girls continued on chattering while other began to massage his shoulders. Another took his hand and filed his fingernails. "Seif, you have such a great body—"

"—I love your hair. It's like the setting sun."

"Your hands look so strong."  
  
"Do you want anything to eat?"

"—what about to drink?"

"Seifer."

"When do you think you'll be Pharaoh?"

"Seifer.."

"I can't wait until you are Pharaoh."

"Seifer!" The urgency of the voice caused the other girls to fall silent and back away from the prince. At the loss of treatment, Seifer opened his eyes to see who demanded his attention. The girl he had sent away before had returned. Seifer smiled when his eyes spotted the brunet slave standing behind the girl. The blond prince began to stand, brushing away the girls' hands as if they were beggars asking for bread. He completely ignored their presence as he stood in front of Squall, waiting for a reaction from him.

Squall had his arms crossed and was focusing his eyes on the floor behind the blonde. Seifer could tell the brunet was nervous because he kept shifting his weight. He waited a little longer before putting on an arrogant smirk and circling around Squall in an unbroken motion. The event between Rinoa and the brunet burned vividly behind his eyes. Seifer narrowed his eyes in mild disgust. "Do you like it?"

Squall's head snapped up with an expression clearly asked: 'What?'. Seifer continued to slowly circle Squall. He stopped behind the brunet and looked the man's back up and down. The prince knew what Rinoa had felt last night, but what did Squall feel? Did he enjoy having a snake slither over his skin? Seifer stepped up close to the other in order to whisper so the girls in the room could not overhear. "Did you like it when she touched you?"

Squall's chin fell at the words. He curled his arms more tightly around himself but said nothing. Seifer intently watched these bodily motions, reading the answer that didn't need to be voiced. He rather enjoyed seeing Squall like this; it was a drastic change from the usual defiant glares. It gave him the feel of power that he desired. "Yes, I saw you both last night in her room. I saw her.."

Seifer smiled and raised his hands and ran them down Squall's arms. He made sure to trace his fingers over the muscles, just as Rinoa had done the night before. The brunet appeared to shell himself further away into his mind. Seifer wished to break this shell. He softly ran his hands back up the smooth skin, pleased to see Squall twist in discomfort. What was Squall going to do, fight back? The slave never pushed Rinoa way, why should he start rebelling now?

"I saw her touch you like this," Seifer pulled his hands away then planted them firmly on Squall's shoulders. He wanted to make the other remember. He let one hand repeat the action of running down Squall's arm, soaking in the touch of the warm skin. "She slid her hands like this, did you like that?"

Squall mumbled then turned his face to the side. Seifer cocked his head to the side at the unusual noise. He let his hands fall away from Squall's arms then moved to stand in front of him instead. "What was that? No, yes?"

Seifer could of sworn he saw Squall roll his eyes, but it was hard to tell when the man kept turning his face away. Growling with his short fused temper, Seifer seized Squall's chin in a firm grip and then jerked the other's head to the look straight at him. "Answer me. Did you like it?"

Squall glared a moment before reaching up and knocking Seifer's hand away. He back away a step or two, "I said it's none of your business."

Seifer didn't respond at first. He let the girls' whisper to each other; let those wenches think what they want; they knew nothing! Seifer stalked after Squall, determined to keep this exchange of conversation private. He gripped Squall's shoulder and brought his face up to the brunet's ear to whisper, "I hope you realize that Rinoa is going to be gone. It's just you and me, and I make everything my business."

Squall suddenly turned his head towards Seifer to retort. This action caused the blonde to pull his head back to avoid knocking foreheads. The action was a bit slow; Seifer felt his bottom lip brush over Squall's cheek before either of them could pull far enough away. Squall looked as if he was going to say something but the words had been sucked out of his mouth.

Seifer stared at that mouth, those very lips that gaped at him. When he had made that accidental touch to Squall's cheek, Seifer had felt heat and surprising energy surge through his veins. He also felt slightly dazed and unknowingly began to lean forward. Squall retreated backwards from the blonde. The daze was instantly shattered, leaving Seifer to stare at the brunet.

"What does it matter?" Squall finally spat out. 

Seifer didn't say anything at first; Diablo's confusion was beginning to brew. When he looked at Squall a second time, jade eyes narrowed in anger. "What do you have to hide?"

".. Whatever," Squall said through gritted teeth then turned towards the exit. Seifer reached out and snatched Squall's arm. He jerked the other back and seized both arms. He didn't want Squall to leave, not yet. The girls were whispering again, but this time loud enough to reach the prince's reddening ears. Their voices made him push Squall away.

Just what exactly was he doing here anyway? He had this disturbing urge to touch Squall—but why? This wasn't normal. This was like some sort of sorcery—of course! 

Seifer's jade eyes hardened to ice. He looked upon Squall with intensive loathing, causing the brunet to take another step backwards. Instead of returning the hard look, Squall had narrowed his blue-gray eyes in question.

"You.." Seifer growled in a low voice. By now even the girls had back away. Seifer had just figured out why he felt a desire for Squall. It all made perfect sense, and was painfully obvious that he didn't know why he had not realized it before. Rinoa had infected Squall. That witch had put a spell on the brunet. Or maybe it was her very touch that lingered on the slave; making him desirable to the people he was around—just like Rinoa was to any man. She was a seductress, and she had tainted Squall with that trait.

"..You will come to my room tonight and I shall give you a new set of orders. Now that Rinoa is gone, you won't have to attend to her needs and I will not have you sitting around with nothing to do." Seifer turned his back to Squall.

Rinoa had to have put some spell on the brunet. She _was_ a sorceress. It was in her power to do such a thing. Squall had been perfect target—just for that reason, he was _perfect_. The dark brown color of the hair; the light tone of flawless skin; the height; the eyes—Gods, the eyes were the most beautiful orbs he had ever seen. But all those traits were things Seifer adored. Yet again, he couldn't get over those eyes and their perfection—they portrayed the desert at night; the time Seifer enjoyed most. It was one of his favorite things to watch the desert change from fire to ice.

Yes, Squall appeared to be perfect to the eyes, but Seifer knew this wasn't true. Nothing could be perfect. He would break that image Rinoa had created. Squall was far from being _anything_ that Seifer desired. He'd fix that tonight. Everything was going to change before the next sun's rising..

Seifer snapped back to reality when a girl touched his shoulder. He turned away from the hand and walked out. The woman's touch had felt like ice compared to what he had experienced when being near Squall. The attention he could receive from the girls suddenly seemed dull and un-arousing. All Seifer could concentrate on was that coming night and what he would say to those 'perfect' eyes before they would shatter.

**End Chapter.**


	6. Flash of Truth

Chapter Six: Flash of Truth 

"Bahamut, please give me strength for the night," Seifer quietly prayed before a large statue of a winged dragon. He had been here the entire evening since his short meetings with Rinoa and Squall. The great prince had come to Bahamut's temple to ask for guidance. The powerful dragon was the God above all the other gods. Bahamut was the father of creation, and made the sun rise and fall. The only god that could possibly come in comparison was Griever. That god had become a taboo in this kingdom however. Seifer's grandfather had some problem with the people giving praise to Griever, so he had made it forbidden; and so the city (and the surrounding territory) was governed under Bahamut. Seifer had grown up never knowing who Griever truly was in the world of the gods, but it never drew his curiosity.

"I forever live for you. Ask what you will of me and I shall use all my power to give it to you," Seifer bowed his head while reaching out to humbly touch the clawed foot of the sacred statue. He lightly ran his thumb over the cold stone as if it were living flesh.

Now that he was finished, Seifer stood and exited the temple. He was surprised to find that it was night, a dark moonless night. It had been broad daylight when he had first stepped into the temple. He didn't realize it had taken so long to pray—but he _had_ taken time to explain to Bahamut about the problems he was having with Squall and Rinoa; it was done in hopes that the God would give him a solution.

Seifer dismissively shook his head then headed for the palace. Bahamut's temple had been constructed near the palace so that the pharaoh and the god could always remain close. The blonde prince crossed the short span of dark sand and ascended the stone stairs. He drifted past the door sentries and welcomed the soft fabric of a long red rug under his feet. The feeling was lost when Seifer turned into a different hallway that led away from the pharaoh's chambers; the rugs had then turned to hard, cold marble.

These hallways were not lit like the main hall. The only source of light here was the streaks of starlight that streamed in through the windows. Seifer walked briskly, breaking the star's faint light with his body and casting his tall shadow on the opposite wall. He was tired, and wished to be comforted by feather pillows and the softest cotton sheets that made up his large bed.

The prince turned and brushed through layers of silk and walked into the middle of his room. A single torch was burning along the far wall. The flame danced with the light breeze and sporadically lightened the room with a dim shade of red. It didn't matter; Seifer was just here to sleep and did not need to see the way to his bed chambers. Although, the darkness of his room made him uneasy and unwilling to move. He did a quick scan of the room to ensure his solitude. Only then did he feel free enough to sigh heavily then sink into a chair. Seifer stretched out his legs to relax his muscles that had cramped during his kneeling before Bahamut. He was not use to that position at all. Eyes drifted close with the promising thought of sleep..

"You wanted to see me," a voice quietly spoke from the shadows.

Seifer jumped at the words. He instantly stood up and looked from the speaker. First he glanced towards the doorway, expecting to spot a servant silhouetted by the hall's torchlight. The curtains stood empty and lifeless, only stirring with the occasional breeze.

"Who's there?" Seifer asked the darkness but received no reply. He slowly backed into the wall near the doorway. His leg bumped into a small table. Seifer quickly reached down and blindly fumbled with the contents until his fingers curled around a familiar hilt. He drew a small curved blade from a leather sheath and held the blade protectively out before him.

"Speak up," Seifer shouted and began to walk back into the center of the room. He slowly swung the dagger through the air, searching for a solid shadow. His heart knocked more heavily against his ribs the longer the silence stretched. Something moved by one of the windows. Seifer immediately focused his attention and blade on the slight side-silhouette he could see. "Who's there?"

"You should know," the voice finally responded with a tinge of amusement.

Seifer narrowed his eyes at the shadow, trying vainly to pick out details of the intruder. He was supposed to know who was in his room this late at night? It was probably some assassin come to slit his throat while he slept. Seifer thanked Bahamut for keeping him out so late to avoid such a tragedy. Seifer's mind was racing; the adrenaline pumping in his veins didn't make it any easier to think about any other possibilities. "Fine. It doesn't matter who you are. What are you doing in here?"

"..You told me to come," came the reply.

"I did no such thing," Seifer hissed and tightened his fingers on the hilt. The shadow began to move forward, drawing nearer and nearer. Seifer raised the dagger; the hairs on the back of his neck rising on end as well. "What are you doing? Stop there."

The shadow stopped just out of reach of the blade's curved tip. Seifer squinted, but the figure now stood in the way of the torch, thus blocking out all means of light to pick out identifying features. "If you don't want me here, then I shall leave."

Seifer let the dagger lower a hair. This person sounded like a servant in a way, not like a cold-blooded killer. Cocking his head to the side, Seifer decided to test his assumption. "Go light the other torch."

The figure shifted but otherwise did not move, "Are those my new orders?"

Seifer narrowed his eyes, this time in anger. He was supposed to know this man; it was on the tip of his tongue but lost in the darkness. It was just so late; Seifer was tired and stressed out. Though the arrogance of this intruder was lighting the fuse to the blonde's temper. "Yeah, new orders.."

The shadow moved around Seifer. The blonde turned as well and carefully watched the torchlight breathe life to the figure's back. A gray tunic over pale skin glowed under the flickering red tinted light. Dark brown hair streaked in shadows shifted with the slightest movement the figure made. "Squall.."

"What?" the figure turned sideways, giving the prince only a side profile of his face.

Seifer had completely forgot why he wanted to see Squall tonight, especially this late at night. "What—I mean, do you recall why I summoned you here?"

Squall fully turned around, letting the torchlight light up his face. Seifer watched the light dance over the brunet's impassive expression and blank, empty stare. It was only a second that they met eyes before Squall broke eye contact to look aside in silent annoyance.

"That's right. I'm suppose to know. Well then.." Seifer sneered and tossed the dagger onto the chair he had been seated upon. The blade tip sunk into the cushion, letting a few white feathers peek out of the fabric. Seifer didn't bother to care. He took a few steps towards Squall and examined the other's face. He was trying to remember why he had asked for Squall to be present. If not, Seifer was sure he could come up with a few entertaining ideas as to how to spend the time. Seifer's eyes darted over Squall's body in thought. "Come here."

"Why?" Squall questioned first.

Seifer rolled his eyes in aggravation, "Since when did you become so willing to talk?"

Silence met Seifer's mocking question. It was like Squall had realized his outspokenness and had changed back to his quiet ways. Seifer watched this transformation and smiled. He was take advantage of this moment. "Is it because Rinoa left and you no longer have that choking collar around your neck?"

Seifer advanced when Squall turned away in attempt to ignore the words. "Speak boy, speak."

Squall snorted. Seifer thrived off of the defiance, knowing that only a fool would dare to rebel against a pharaoh's son. No one but his father and Rinoa could brush him off like dust. Absolutely no one else had the courage to stand up to the proud prince; that was until this peculiar worker appeared out of the blue.

_Blue, like those eyes.. like the desert.._ Seifer reached out to grab Squall's arm, but the brunet pulled out of reach. Seifer frowned and followed Squall's step for step. "Stop."

Squall didn't show any signs of obeying. Seifer stretched his hand out again, but the brunet jerked his arm away. The prince stopped with a snarl painted on his face that was only heightened by the flickering of the torch. He really didn't have the experience or the patience to deal with someone who wouldn't listen to him, but was _suppose_ to follow orders. "You have no where to run.."

Squall glanced around the room, challenging Seifer's words. This caused the blonde to narrow his eyes; a silent dare. Squall took the bait and made a break for the door. Seifer was prepared for this action though, the blonde ran for the door as well. Since he was closer, Seifer made it to the silk drapes before Squall. He grabbed the brunet's shoulders to slow the other's run. He then shoved him back towards the center of the room. "What are you running from?

Squall was once again backing away from the temperamental prince. It was not in fear, that much Seifer knew. He did not understand why Squall backed away from him. Sure, he had threatened to hurt the brunet on numerous occasions, but it just did not seem like Squall to back away from a little bullying.

"Are you trying to hide something?" Seifer pursued. He wanted to figure out this other man. Jade eyes intently watched as Squall's head turned to the side; but with a slight tilt downwards that sent brown locks falling over storm gray eyes. Seifer read perfectly what answer the other had given without words. "What, tell me what you are keeping a secret."

Squall's arms came up and crossed over his chest in a familiar pose. Seifer hissed at the lack of response. It was obvious that the further he pressed, the more Squall shelled himself away. But what else was he suppose to do, wait for the brunet to warm up to him? Not likely.

"Tell me!" Seifer pounced; seizing Squall's arms above the elbows while the other was preoccupied with 'disappearing'. "What is it about you that makes you so different.."

The struggle was over. Squall stood frozen in Seifer's strong grip. His head rolled forward to avoid eye contact. Seifer shook the unresponsive brunet then released an arm to grab Squall's chin and jerk the man's head upright. "Stop this. Just give me one straight answer. I already knew there was _something_ about you. Ever since I first laid eyes on you in the rock quarry.."

Seifer loosened his tight grip since Squall had gone still. The blonde saw the light questioning in the blur of blue and gray. "Ever since I saw your eyes.."

A flash of anger washed over Squall's eyes. Seifer was suddenly looking into a fierce storm and furious expression to match the intensity. Squall pulled away, glaring ice at the blonde. "What did you say?"

Seifer's hand remained posed in the air where he had held Squall's chin. He arched a thin golden eyebrow in question. That reaction had not been what Seifer had expected—then again, he had not meant to say something personal like that in the first place. His hand drop to swing loosely at his side. Seifer let a smirk grace his features. It was now his turn to fall silent.

"Well?" Squall questioned.

Seifer shook his head slowly then lazily set his eyes on Squall once more, "Let's don't go off subject now. You tell me what you are hiding and I'll tell you what I can see in your eyes. Deal?"

Squall snorted for a second time that night, "I get nothing out of that."

The arrogant prince laughed, "True. You aren't as stupid as I thought—"

"—I'm surprised you even think."

"Regardless. I will find an answer to my question one way or another," Seifer mused. To him, Squall was acting strangely. He had never heard the brunet be so outspoken. Squall had to be out of his mind, or hiding something important in order to be willing to be so obnoxious. "You see, I know you are more than just a slave.."

Squall's eyes locked on Seifer's. The blonde smiled and began to look for the silent answer. Suddenly the room went white. Seifer raised his arm to shield his eyes. Just as soon as it went bright, the room went completely black, leaving Seifer blind.

"What the hell?!" Seifer raged as another flash of light filled the room. This time Seifer followed the retreating brightness to where it faded out the window. He stared out at the desert. Pitch black met his eager green gaze. The stars and moon were absent, seeming to have been swallowed by the shadows. All was still and silent until strips of light—white snake-like lines erupted from the desert sands in the horizon. They spanned out, flickering from cloud to ground in an erratic dance.

"Lightning.." Seifer whispered breathless as his brow knitted together in thought. Rain was highly irregular in the desert, and a lightning storm was even more unusual; especially when it sparked from the ground to the sky—all bundled together in a nest of electricity. Seifer was entranced with the sight. He didn't notice Squall had come up next to him and gazed out the window with an identical expression, but different words.

"Quezacotl.."

End Chapter 


	7. First Blood

**Chapter Seven: First Blood**

                "What—Did you say Quezacotl? Out there?" Seifer glanced from the desert storm to the brunet at his side. He didn't doubt Squall's words. Something in the others eyes, an eerie radiance that told Seifer of truth.

                Jade eyes fixated on the dark sands. There was a glowing spot out the horizon. Thin white lines whipped out from the area and lashed the earth and sky. Each connection caused Seifer's room to be flooded with light. "How do you know that.."

                Seifer turned to Squall, but as usual, the brunet was not listening. The blonde reached out to touch Squall's shoulder in order to gain his attention. As soon as his fingers connected with the other, a numbing pain ran up his arm. Seifer jerked away and retreated a few steps. He withdrew back into the shadows of the room, clutching his tingling arm tightly to his chest. It had happened so suddenly that Seifer was too shocked to cry out. Squall didn't even seem to notice. The man was continuing to stare out the window with a ghostly expression.

                _It has to be that sorceress at work_, Seifer slowly began to make sense of the strange storm. That jolt of energy from Squall seemed to have woken up his mind. It was logical; those cracks of lightning were in the direction of Aldazir. Rinoa was out in those sand dunes somewhere, headed in that direction. Seifer should have realized an 'incident' like this would have happened.

                He had been the one to make up the false message. Seifer had sent a servant to deliver it to one person, then to another, and then another until finally it was given to a messenger to deliver to Rinoa. Her father never really asked for her to return home. Seifer had just made that up to make her leave without questions asked. He had then asked Raijin to take a few personal guards and camp out in the sands, follow Rinoa's traveling group then slit that witch's throat during the night.

                It was a dirty thing to do, but to Seifer it was justifiable. This way the blood would not be on his hands and he would remain pure. Yet, after seeing that strange show of lightning out in the desert, Seifer realized that getting rid of the sorceress would not be so easy. It at least bought him time..

                Seifer's eyes lit up at the last thought. His gaze fell on Squall who was glowing in the moonlight—but wait, there _was_ no moon in the sky tonight. What in Bahamut's name was going on? It was like Squall was responding to the electrical energy out in the desert.

                _That's right_, Seifer's eyes narrowed. He remembered now why Squall was here. The brunet had been tainted by Rinoa's touch. That witch had made Squall desirable, yet untouchable; and now the young man was responding to her energy. Seifer was supposed to break that perfection he saw—that was why he had sent Rinoa away. When that snake was around there was never a moment to carry out his plans without her interruption. But not tonight..

                The room filled with another flash of light. Something glinted ominously to Seifer's right. He glimpsed to see his discarded dagger on a chair. Another strike of lightning made the blade glow under Seifer's intense stare.

                _Perfect.._

                The room was dark, albeit the flickering red-tinted light that came from the low burning torch situated between two windows. Outside the sky was starless and robbed of the moon—then suddenly the darkness would be chased away by a single flash of lightning. The storm continued to rage out in the desert. Every burst of light silhouetted a figure in the window, and the other slinking slowly towards the chair.

                With every burst of light Seifer edged closer to the chair. He reached out and curled his fingers around the cold hilt of his curved dagger. Pulling it back, the blade slit through the chair cushion, spilling feathers over the marble floor. Seifer held the dagger low and close to his thigh. He slowly stalked up behind Squall; feathers swirled along the floor with his movements.

                Squall stood but a few feet in front of him now. Seifer hid the dagger behind his back. He drew closer to the brunet. There was no response; Squall simply stared out the window in a trance. Seifer lifted a hand to touch Squall's shoulder, but instead he let his fingers hover inches from the other's skin. The hairs on his arms rose; not in fear, but with some strange energy that radiated from Squall.

"She really did corrupt you," Seifer mused aloud yet received no reaction. "She's putting everything I hate into you, but she hides it behind this spell that has been cast on you.."

                Seifer's fingers tightened on the blade's hilt. His eyes were trained on the mass of dark brown hair that was the back of Squall's head. The blonde prince was waiting for some response, or a simple look of acknowledgement. When it appeared safe to continue, Seifer went on assuming Squall was not listening.

                "She made you an illusion; a nearly perfect image before my eyes. I know why she did this too," Seifer smoothly spoke the words and believed every one of them. He had thought long and hard on this subject before, "Rinoa wants to humiliate me in front of my father. I won't let her though, I will destroy anything she throws in my path."

                Seifer lowered the dagger to rest against his thigh. Beads of sweat began to form on his brow despite the cool night temperature. It was from the butterflies that were taking flight in his stomach. Seifer had always been a man that was quick to threaten, but when it came down to acting on his words, he had never truly carried out anything on his own. It had always been a servant, guard or hired knives that carried out his will.

                The wickedly curved dagger was raised into the air. Flashes of light made the scene perfectly visible, but it was all done in complete silence. The two shadows flickered on the wall, the very image of murder about to be played. 

                The room once again went dark, even the light out on the horizon went out. The ethereal glow that had been clinging to Squall's skin lifted. The torch was the only source of light now. Seifer remained posed in the air, torn with indecision. But an Almasy had to do what needed to be done. An Almasy did not back down in fear!

Seifer closed his eyes and raised the dagger even higher, then brought it down towards Squall's neck—

                "Will you destroy me then?" Squall suddenly questioned as he came out of his daze.

                Seifer tensed his muscles, bringing the curved tip to stop centimeters away from breaking pale skin. He opened his eyes and studied his target. Squall still had his back to him and was probably unaware of what Seifer could have done if the voice had not shattered his concentration.

                _I shall, it has to be done. I cannot back down. I will not be weak.._

                He raised the dagger again, refusing to grace Squall with a response. The answer would be the sharp tip of this blade sinking deep into his flesh. Seifer kept his eyes opened this time and brought the dagger down..

                Squall didn't receive a quick response from the prince, which was unusual. He turned his head to the side to try and see where the other was. What he saw was shadows dancing on the wall, silhouettes that were made by the torch. One was standing, while the other was raising an object appearing to be a knife. The shadows were so close together. It was like a murder was—

                Seifer didn't hesitate, nor did he pull back. Just as the curved tip was about to meet skin, Squall spun around with shock etched on his face. This caught Seifer by surprise. He lurched backwards, jerking the blade back up before it sank into the brunet's chest.

                But it was too late to prevent harm. The curved blade slid up Squall's face, kissing his forehead with razor-sharp steel. Blood instantly sprang to life, pouring out over the cold metal. Seifer staggered backwards with eyes wide. He stared at Squall who had stumbled back into the wall. Both hands were covering his face, but it did not stop the blood that seeped through his fingers. Numerous rivets of red ran over his pale skin, then down his arm to finally drip off and create a small pool on the marble floor.

                Seifer's gaze lowered to the dagger he clutched tightly in his hand. Squall's dark blood was there as well. The hot liquid covered the full length of the curving blade. Seifer had held it upright, so the blood had flown over the small hilt and coated over his fingers. Instantly Seifer dropped the dagger and stared horrified at the dark blood that was not his own. The blade clattered in the darkness and flung flecks of blood over everything near; including Seifer's legs.

                The blonde prince vigorously rubbed his fingers over the front of his garments. It was no use; the blood seemed to stick to his flesh. Seifer couldn't take it—he was now unclean with the blood on his hands. It wasn't meant to happen like this.

                Squall slowly slid down the wall, still clutching his hands over the gash on his face. He didn't make a sound; only twisted in pain. Seifer saw the movement of Squall's legs curling up to his chest. The prince was aghast at what he saw. Blood was all over the brunet. It tainted Squall's hands and stained the front of his tunic. The floor was even painted in the dark color.

                Seifer felt the impulse to go to Squall, to help him. He wanted to curl his arms around the other and apologize profusely for spilling his life's blood out over the cold marble.

                But.. he had done it. Seifer had broken the perfection. His intent had been to kill Squall, but this would suffice. If the man didn't bleed to death, then it was certain that a scar would form. Squall would no longer be flawless to the eyes. It was over, yet Seifer did not feel satisfied with what he had done. Instead he felt a heaviness settle itself over his heart.

                _Almasys are not weak, they do not regret!_

                Seifer held his head high even though his body was screaming to run away. The prince had to hold up the arrogant pride of his family name. If he ran, it would shame his father.

                "You are no longer to work in the palace. We have no place here for unsightly scarred servants. You will return to the rock quarry from which you came from. You will do this by sunrise or I shall have you dragged out and slain in front of the people you call family and friends." Seifer curled his fingers into fists to keep from shaking. He had done what he had planned, or as close to it that he could muster. Now that the words and threats were out, Seifer began to back away. His eyes once again fixated on his red tinted fingers. It gave him all the more reason to flee.

                The victory was hollow. It felt more like a loss. Perhaps it was another trick of sorcery? It could be possible..

                "Squall.." Seifer called out before he could choke the works in his throat. The brunet stirred and began to remove his bloodied hands from his face. Seifer didn't want to see anymore. He whipped around and did the only thing he knew how to do well. 

                He ran.

**End Chapter.**


	8. A Dark Future

**Chapter Eight: A Dark Future**

                The desert must have been filled with an uncountable number of sand grains. If the little specks represented anything at all, it was words; mountains of words that shifted against one another to make sentences. Everyone had access to the sands, to all the words. Just a handful of the diamond specks could make up a story.

                The sun had risen once again. Seifer was sure that everyone had a handful of the sand that told his story. It seemed that every man, woman, and child knew about what he had done to Squall. Every pair of eyes stared judgingly at him. They all saw his bloody hands—the red liquid had long been washed away, but it was still visible under the unblinking gaze of so many eyes.

                Seifer had to flee from them as well. It was a terrible shame that he forced himself to endure. He went to one of the only places where he could get away from them, yet still be there at the same time. He went to the river. A ferryboat of his father's would provide shelter from all the eyes.

                It turned out to not be as peaceful as previously thought. Seifer was now on this boat with his father. The Pharaoh had been delighted to see his son jogging down the dock to join him. To Seifer, it was nothing of importance; he just wanted to escape—it was a misfortune that his father happened to be at the river and then requested that the blonde ride with him.

                Seifer sat on the corner of the flat vessel. A dark silence had settled between him and everyone else. Seifer made sure to constantly kept his back to his father because he was afraid that the man would see the blood and then label him a failure.

                "The priests tell me that hard times are coming," Seifer's father spoke. The prince wasn't listening. He stared blankly down at the opaque water as the Pharaoh went on. "This I know. I can read the signs in the stars myself. The sky speaks of war, my son."

                Seifer's head lifted. He meekly glanced over his shoulder at his father. The man had actually called him 'my son'. It was comforting at the time; albeit a very small bit of affection, but Seifer took what he could get at the moment. "War?"

                "Yes, war," the man nodded from his chair. He crossed his arms and looked out towards Zamir. Seifer examined the stone hard expression on the man's face. The prince did not really look like him. The Pharaoh had dark brown hair, and a darker tone to his skin. Even his eyes were dark, looking more like chips of onyx. Seifer was just an even mix between this man and his fair skinned, light blonde haired, bright greened eyes mother.

                "The east has been rising in rebellion. Do you know why?" his father turned to look directly at him.

                "No," Seifer quietly answered and looked aside. He didn't know anything—he was convinced that he was just a simple fool; a mere child when compared to his father.

                "That is where my father fought a man that was also a pharaoh, a ruler of the eastern kingdoms. This other man hailed loyalty to Griever and would not yield to Bahamut. He was a fool, son. My father waged a great battle against him that took place in the city of Marr. The gods were on the Almasys side and we won by the third setting sun. My father's men tore down Griever's temple and slaughtered the priests the next morning. He threatened that if the people ever lifted praise to Griever that he would kill them all."

                "The Pharaoh that was defeated, what was his name?" Seifer curiously inquired.

                "It is forbidden to speak his name. His rule and existence ended the day his head was chopped off and presented to his people," the Pharaoh replied with a slight nod; even he must abide by the laws.

                "Oh," Seifer searched for a better response but nothing came. He didn't want to return to the tense silence though; not when his father and him seemed to be getting along like how things were meant to be. "But why is there threat of war? I thought grandfather had taken care of the rebels."

                "That was a long time ago. The people that remember that day are long dead as is my father. This new generation doesn't know the sharp edge of the taboo against Griever, so they praise him and rise against us." His father sighed. War was not something to look forward too.

                The words 'sharp edge' made Seifer wince. It made him think of how his curved dagger had slice through Squall's skin the night before. Then afterwards how the wound bled profusely. Seifer didn't know what happened to the brunet. When he dared to enter the room the next morning there was no trace of the other. The blood had been washed from the floor as well.

                "Father," Seifer closed his eyes and kept his face adverted from the pharaoh. He knew the man was paying attention. "What would you do if I did something…"

                Seifer stumbled for the right word. He didn't want to give away that he had done something to make his father angry. It was all too confusing at the moment. This war game with his cousin was going wild—and now his father was talking about a future wide-scaled war. That just meant that everything will just get worse as time went on; there was never a moment in war when a man had a chance to breath a sigh of relief or say that things were getting better. War was never good, no matter how it turned out.

                "What would I say if you did what?" His father questioned.

                "Nothing. I just think I did something wrong the other night.." Seifer mumbled quickly.

                "What did you do?" Another persistent question.

                Seifer smothered a growl in the back of his throat. He suddenly didn't feel like being in the company of his father. Quickly he summed up a half-truth, half-lie, "I did nothing last night that would have been wrong. I just had a troublesome dream and woke up to a raven quorking outside my window."

                "Oh. Ask the priests about your dream, I am sure that they can tell you what it means," His father replied, smoothly ending the subject.

                Seifer rolled his eyes at the suggestion. Sure his father was just trying to be helpful—but really, those silly priests of the temples were nothing but a joke. They would probably tell him something along the lines that mercury was in the dark, thus that meant he would not find happiness until he saw the light of the fifth day. Or that Cerberus was a hungry God and shall devour someone close to him. Stupid priests.

                "I wish to go to shore," Seifer stood abruptly. He continued to let his back face his father; let the proud man think what he wanted. Seifer had his reasons for treating the Pharaoh with gestures that seemed disrespectful; reasons that he couldn't even quite understand himself. 

He couldn't see, but the prince knew his father had signaled to the servants to return to the harbor because the river ferry lurched to the side. Seifer jadedly watched as the shore approached. He had the faintest urge to go to the rock quarry. Although he would never admit to anyone that he wanted to see Squall. He just wanted to know if the brunet was alive and well.

"One more question," Seifer turned sideways to meet his father's gaze. "Can you tell me about Griever, or—" his father was already shaking his head. Seifer frowned and finished his sentence, "—or is it forbidden."

"To even mention that God's name is not allowed, remember this. Even we must respect the laws," the Pharaoh replied.

Seifer held back a disappointed sigh. He would have liked to hear about this foreign God, but it seemed that it was not meant to be. He didn't have a chance to question further because the ferry bumped into the dock. Seifer said his farewell and walked into the city of Zamir. Immediately he felt the eyes on him. It made his skin crawl. The prince let his jade eyes fall to the sandy path. Their piercing gazes were like needles, pricking here and there. It would not kill him, but the pain was sharp enough to cause Seifer's vision to blur with dry tears. 

_Just don't tell father. I beg of you.._

The sullen prince drifted down the streets. Citizens of all sort moved out of his way. It seemed normal enough, but Seifer knew they were afraid. They no doubt thought of him as a monster.

_I didn't kill him though. I'm not really blood stained—I swear.._

A crack of a whip caused Seifer's head to snap upright. The sound was abnormally alarming. He hurried his pace through the city until the buildings became sparse. Seifer came upon a large flat, vacant space. A wide gully dropped down to his left; the rock quarry. He briskly walked over the hard packed earth. His ears were straining to hear the sound of a guard's whip. It was strange, but Seifer was afraid that maybe Squall was being whipped—the brunet didn't deserve any more scars or pain. Not from a lowly guard, not as a slave.

Slave. That word didn't seem to fit Squall anymore. There was something more to that man, but it was all secretly wrapped up in black ice. That very mysterious nature of Squall was what drew Seifer's attention; that and a few other curious aspects of the silent brunet.

The prince traveled the full length of the gully and back, yet he found no sign of Squall. It was a grievous thought to think the man dead. Arrogantly Seifer lifted his head and scanned the faces. _He better not be dead. It was just a little scratch. I thought he'd be stronger than that._

Seifer's eyes roamed over the passing workers. One man marched by with a tangled mass of brown curls, and then another with a clean-shaven head. Squall had to be here somewhere, it was not as if a .. slave.. could take a day off. Seifer continued to watch each man that went by. One man that showed signs of balding followed closely by a short male with vibrant blonde hair that rose in a line of thick spikes; kind of like the crest of a rooster.

"You," Seifer called out while pointing an index finger at the blonde man. The prince had recognized the man to be the one present when Squall had been taken to the palace. The shorter looked up in question then glanced around to see if perhaps Seifer had meant someone else. "Yes you, with the blonde hair, the one with the chicken crown."

That seemed to catch the man's attention. The worker frowned then stepped out of line as Seifer approached. A guard saw what was happening and began to follow the prince, but Seifer waved him off then came to a halt a few feet in front of the shorter. "What's your name?"

The worker eyed Seifer suspiciously before glancing nervously at the retreating guard. It was an unusual situation, "Zell Dincht.. Prince Almasy."

Zell focused his eyes on the ground. Seifer noticed this and became aware of how sick he was of people treating him with such mannerisms. Ignoring the tension brewing in the air, Seifer went on with the hope this man would be helpful. "Where is Squall?"

Bright blue eyes looked disbelieving at the prince, but only for a second. Zell adverted his attention a second time and began to shift uneasily, "No—I mean I don't know.."

Seifer narrowed his eyes. He had watched plenty of men squirm under his gaze. He knew when they were nervous, afraid, or lying. This situation was no different. Seifer leaned in close, making a point to bend down to make eye contact. He spoke lowly, "Tell the truth, it'll do you good."

Zell bit his lip and offered no reply. Seifer growled but refrained from lashing out. If he acted violently then that would attract the guards attention and promptly interfere. "I don't mean whip lashes. I can do far worse than that."

Zell's hands tightened into fists that shook at his sides. A smirked automatically found its way onto Seifer's lips as a familiar arrogance came flooding back to him. The prince drew back and cocked his head to the side, "Did my words ruffle your feathers, chicken?"

Like a good slave, Zell didn't reply. He just kept his silence as it was the only thing he could truly own in this world. Seifer took a quick glance around the rock quarry as he mentally went through a few casual threats he could throw at the short blonde. Once decided, a feral grin appeared. "Instead of punishing you for your insolence, I think I shall have one of the guards find that skinny brown haired girl. What was her name again? Sel—"

"No! Leave her out of thi—" Zell outburst was cut off by his own hand clamping over his mouth. Panic filled his bright eyes.

"Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?" Seifer mused while arching an eyebrow at the odd expression on the man's face. This situation felt strangely familiar, like Seifer had been through these words and retorts before. It was almost like the times when he tormented Squall—except at those times, there was an obvious tension, and every response the brunet made Seifer's temper flare. Here it was different. Seifer felt completely at ease while taunting Zell.

"I'm no one. I didn't mean it like that—please!" Zell clasped his hands together and held them in front of his face in a pleading gesture.

Seifer smirked. He knew how to play this game; he had done it countless times in the past. The words falling out of Zell's mouth were not sincere enough, and the shorter was bending his knees in a mock gesture of pray, but he was not on his knees, yet.

Seifer turned away and eyed the nearest guard who was watching. "You, come here. I need you to find something for me."

The guard began his way over to receive details. Seifer meanwhile flashed a wicked grin at the begging worker. Zell instantly drop the rest of the way to his knees. He held his hands over his head—Seifer noted how tight the other was gripping his fingers together, causing the knuckles to go white. "Please, my prince, I meant no disrespect—"

"Yes, Prince Seifer?" The guard ignorantly cut off Zell's words with a question of his own.

Seifer turned his impish gaze up to the guard, "I need you to find a girl for me."

Zell's shoulder shuddered with what Seifer guessed to be a repressed sob. Seifer raised a hand and held it horizontally a little below his shoulder. "She is about this tall—"

The blond prince cut off when Zell suddenly reached up and grabbed a fistful of his thin robe. Seifer took a moment to observe the man's behavior. It didn't seem that this action was done in order to grovel. In fact, by the way the short blonde pulled at the linen fabric with a clenched jaw, Seifer interpreted it to be a silent threat. He did not ignore this possible risk of bodily harm, even with a guard standing nearby. By mere looks Zell appeared to be well muscled, probably from the years he spent working in the quarry, and he could probably inflict real harm if he wanted.

The smirk never faded from his lips, even with the underlying threat. Seifer finished off his description, "She has white hair and red eyes. Find her for me."

The guard hurried off. Zell let go of the prince's garments and looked quizzically up at the man. Seifer dropped the smirk and glared daggers down at the worker. "Now tell me what I want to hear."

Blue eyes glared back for a split second before Zell remembered whom he was dealing with. He scooted back on his knees and dropped his hands to settle in his lap. He looked half determined to refuse the prince an answer, but slowly it came. "He's here.."

"Don't play games, I don't have the patience. Tell me where he is, now." Seifer hissed his annoyance at the other man.

Zell folded his hands together, once again gripping tightly in an effort to keep his tongue under control. "You have to promise something.."

"I told you that I do not want to play these games," Seifer had the right of mind to grab the blonde's throat and squeeze the answer out of him. It would make things a lot easier. And since when did he make promises to underlings? Never.

"Just don't hurt him.. he didn't do anything.." Zell's pleading ocean blue eyes sought out the prideful jade.

Seifer felt a coldness pass right through him. He pressed his lips together and said nothing. Those words smothered his fiery temper, and left an icy rage in its wake. At first Seifer wanted to deny he had ever hurt Squall, but he knew that everyone had their handfuls of sand; they knew the truth. He also wanted to say that he would do as he pleased, but he couldn't bring himself to spit out the words.

"Please. I will tell you were to find him, just don't hurt him anymore," Zell pleaded more; though his words smashed into the prince's mental wall made of a mix of fire and ice. "Don't take him to the palace again. He belongs down here with us—"

"Shut up," Seifer snapped, his voice drained of emotion. "I won't hurt the damn.. that.. _slave_ anymore than I have harmed you. Tell where he is now, or I will make sure you never speak again."

"The other side of the gorge, on the northern end," Zell quickly sputtered.

If it were any other occasion, Seifer would have smiled at the victory. Instead he gave a cold glare and left the kneeling blonde in silence. Why did everyone have to shove that in his face? Squall had gotten what he deserved. He was a disobedient slave that had gone without punishment for far too long. Seifer was in the right! He was the prince, Squall just a servant—it shouldn't matter!

"Stop looking at me!" Seifer suddenly nipped at a passing guard who had indeed been watching. He quickened his pace to tread down the path leading into the gully. Sounds of metal picks clicked continuously as workers chipped at the solid walls. Every now and then Seifer would catch the sound of a whip cracking; it sent a shiver down his spine. He quickly walked up the opposing path to flattop; this side seemed to be up higher than the one he had just been on.

Seifer moved along the marching lines, seeking out a familiar face. The back of his mind was already working out different methods of torture in case Zell had sent him on a wild goose chase; the method that stuck out most was tar and feathers. Seifer managed a soft chuckle as he moved through the workers. He moved away from the lines and stood where he could see them all without having to walk through them. Jade eyes scrambled over the faces.

_Why do I feel so desperate to find him.._

The prince remembered well that Squall could 'disappear' when around other people. It was a mystery to how Rinoa had spotted the man in the first place. Perhaps it had been the absence of scars when all the other bodies were littered with whip marks? Jade eyes began to seek out a new detail. It didn't help. A lot of the men had only a few scars along their arms or back.

_What is it that Rinoa had pointed out—his eyes? But I'll never find them. He would never look at me again._

Seifer was slowly coming to the point where he would give up his search. It would probably do him some good never to see that brunet again. Sighing, Seifer looked one last time over the slaves. He imagined how Squall's eyes would appear if they ever crossed. They would be full of silent anger that was trapped in a storm of blue and gray. His eyes would probably even show Seifer how much loathing the brunet had for him. It would never show the faint gaze of questioning like that man's eyes..

Shattering back to reality, Seifer stared back at the blue gray eyes that regarded him in question. The prince looked over the rest of the man, making sure to see dark hair and pale skin—and one crimson scar slashing diagonally between those eyes. Seifer grimaced and shifted his gaze to the ground as guilt washed over him. He knew that mark was created by his own hands; he accepted that truth.

Seifer had done it in order to break the spell that Rinoa had cast on Squall, yet it seemed there had been no such thing. Squall had been the perfect being, but of course Seifer had to go and ruin it all.

_It's not so bad.._

He lifted his head to look at the scar again, but Squall had become invisible once again. Instead of vainly searching by looks, Seifer took a different approach to find the other, "Squall!"

A man stopped in the line. Seifer fixed his jade eyes onto the individual—finding that it was the owner of the name. He frowned and slowly began to trek over to the brunet. He kept his eyes glued on Squall, determined not to lose him to the crowd a second time. Another worker in the line bumped into Squall, catching the brunet off guard. Stumbling forward, Squall ran into the worker in front of him and proceeded to knock the other over. White rocks spilled out over the ground.

Squall extended a hand to help the other up when suddenly a hand seized his shoulder and flung him around. Seifer blinked then shifted his gaze to the new figure; a burly guard whose attention had been drawn by the sound of falling stones. "Are you causing trouble boy?"

Squall didn't respond, naturally. He turned his head aside, sparing a glance to Seifer. The prince saw that the brunet was currently blaming him for this incident. Seifer snorted—it was not _his_ fault.

"I said are you causing trouble?" The guard barked while reaching for the whip at his waist.

"Stop it," Seifer called out, expecting the scene to end at once—but this time his words went unheard.

"Do you need to be taught a lesson?" the guard roughly shook Squall's shoulder with one hand, as the other raised the short whip. Squall didn't respond still. Every slave knew that no matter how much you apologized, pleaded, or explained; it never stopped the whip from biting into flesh.

"I said stop!" Seifer shouted as he began to approach the two. A fire was building in his vibrant green eyes as he watched the guard continue to assault Squall. The armed man pushed Squall's shoulder, making the brunet turn around so bare back was visible. The whip was raised higher and Squall tensed for the coming blow.

"You idiot, I said stop!" Seifer bellowed as he rushed up to the pair. He seized the guard's upraised arm in a loose grip. "Leave him alone."

The guard must have been either deaf or blind—perhaps both, because he turned on Seifer while tearing his arm out of the blonde's grasp. He wore an expression that the prince recognized to be the very same one he would wear whenever an underling mistreated him. "You mangy slave, how dare you touch me!"

Seifer was not prepared to be attacked by the guard. He suddenly found his head jerking to the side with a hard blow from the large man. Seifer stepped back, stunned at what the other had done. No one hit him, no one! Growling madly at this newfound anger, Seifer flung himself at the man with a rage he never knew he possessed.

The guard had been raising the whip to lash Seifer like he would any other troublesome slave, but was slightly surprised to find the blonde practically on top of him. Seifer seized the man's arm for a second time, grabbing for the leather whip. They wrestled for a moment, both strong and trying to shove the other back into submission.

Seifer's fingers curled around the whip and twisted it out of the man's hand. He then brought his knee up into the other's crotch. The guard instantly surrendered the whip and double while retreating a step or two in pain. Before he had a chance to find his voice and call out for help, Seifer was at him again. The blonde tightly wrapped the thick leather whip around the man's neck. The guard fumbled with his stout fingers, blindly trying to pull the coils away.

"Seifer.." A voice broke through the anger. It sounded distant, more like a whisper; but it was enough to reach through to the prince.

Seifer eyes focused as the fire in the jade orbs was extinguished. He lifted his gaze to find an alarmed Squall watching. The blind fury was gone. Seifer quickly back away from his violent act. The guard fell to his knees, pried the whip away and proceeded to suck in gasps of air.

Seifer's went back to meet with two cobalt eyes spliced by a red scar. At first Seifer wanted to smile knowing the other had called him by name for the first time. Instead he twisted away from the stare and only managed to deeply frown.

"I—" Seifer started but was cut off by a heavy hand on his shoulder. Dirty fingers dug savagely into his skin. Seifer turned to see the angry guard at his side. What was with this man—did he not see that he was attacking his own prince?

The guard pulled back and downward at the same time. He brought his leg up to the back of Seifer's legs to ensure the blonde fell straight to the hard ground. Seifer's head poked over the side of the gorge. Jade eyes went wide when he glanced down into the quarry. He didn't realize that they were so close to the edge, or how close he had come to plummeting down to the rocks below; a certain death.

"You wretched dog!" The guard spat, literally; Seifer felt the drops of moisture sprinkle on his face. A short sword was draw as the whip laid forgotten in the dirt. The guard made the short charge to the fallen blonde and swung wildly with the steel.

Seifer's leg came up, his foot connecting with the man's stomach. The guard grunted but pressed forward with his initial momentum. The sword still came down, linking with the top of Seifer's knee. Steel hit bone making the blonde cry out in a mixture of pain and anger. Seifer then brought up his other leg to join the first in order to kick the man away. However, the guard was not a lightweight to be pushed around so easily. The man raised the sword again with a determined mind to strike the blonde's head.

Seifer's legs buckled under the other's weight, thus causing the guard to stumble forward unbalanced. The prince then suddenly pushed his legs straight; this completely knocked the man off foot—but not in the desired direction. The guard went over the top of the blonde and went falling over the side of the gorge. He loudly cried out just before hitting the rocks with a dull thud.

Seifer remained frozen to the ground. His knee throbbed but the pain was distant. He knew what had happened, but it was all like a dream. Slowly he moved his stiff limbs and climbed into a standing position; making sure to adjust his weight to rest on his good leg. The rest of the quarry had stopped dead after the guard's scream. Every pair of eyes watched as the prince edged forward to glimpse down into the quarry. After viewing the body below, Seifer jolted backwards.

"I didn't mean to.." he muttered to the still air. Jade eyes sought out Squall; who was found standing nearby as impassively as ever. Squall knew that Seifer had not meant to kill the guard—he could vouch for him!

_But why should he?_

Squall began to raise a hand, lips parting to speak. Seifer quickly withdrew from the brunet in a way that seemed he was afraid the other was going to attack as well. Everyone had seen what he did. Seifer was a guilty man of murder, and there was no reason to believe his innocence. These people would all say he was a vicious monster—what would his father think when he learned about this?

Seifer turned and hurried through the crowd of onlookers in a fit of panic. He moved as fast as his wounded leg would allow. The prince was finished. There was nothing here for him any longer. It would all be over as soon as his father caught wind of the accident. Seifer didn't want to face the shame or the punishment—he already felt the disgrace and he would devise his own condemnation instead of wait for it to come from the ruthless voice of his father.

He would choose exile. Out there in the desert there would be no one to judge him with silent eyes. He was a coward to run, but he knew and accepted this.

_I'm weak. I was never meant to be his son.._

The foolish blonde fled, leaving a small trail of sand coated blood behind him. He was so lost in his mind that he did not hear the voice calling out his name.

**End Chapter.**

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Author's Note: _Thank you all for the support and reviews /kis!. Keep up the long reviews Faery! 3, I love to know what people thought while they read the chapter. I hope to tie everything together in a nice little bow, but I'm thinking that it will all make even more sense with the sequel. I evilly plan to leave you all hanging at the end of this story. Mwahah! And now it is time for a character change, let's see the world from someone else's perspective, eh? :3_

_Also, don't mind how the story kind of has indentations, then suddenly doesn't. Something screwy happens when I upload it.._


	9. Return of the

**Chapter Nine: Return of the..**

                The sun rises and the sun sets.

                Every one woke with the morning and then slept with the night.

                Rocks went into the basket and then were dumped into some pile.

                Everything was routine and repetitive. Nothing changed. It was easy to fall into a habitual existence. Life had little meaning any more. Every man and woman was simply a tool used by the noble to build their houses and grand statues; to wash their dirty feet; to scrub their floors; to---

                _I really need to stop dwelling on this._

                Squall squinted against the sun as he climbed the steep path out of the quarry. The basket attached to his back was filled with rocks and the weight slowed his pace. Squall didn't mind, he had grown use to the burning sensation of overworked muscles a long time ago.

                At least he thought he was use to the exertion. Today the load of rocks felt heavier and the narrow straps of the basket dug more deeply into his skin. No doubt it was a direct cause from his time spent serving in the palace, the work there had been easy.

                Squall's suddenly felt sick at the thought. He didn't know if he enjoyed his time within the pharaoh's home, or if he had loathed every day and night spent within those walls of marble and stone. It _had_ been nice to get away from the backbreaking labor. However, the people he was forced to deal with had been unpleasant.

                Rinoa had been the name of the 'master' he served. Squall had been shocked when the woman had been able to pick him out of the crowd. Of course he had masked his surprise behind a face of indifference and went along. Rinoa had been a simple person to please in the beginning, but as the days went by things began to get weird. It had been little things at first, such as looks and soft touches. Then she had him be present in the room as she dressed or bathed behind a curtain—a wisp of silk so transparent that it might as well not be there.

                Squall wasn't a simpleton; he knew Rinoa was trying to tempt him. It didn't make any sense to _why_ she would do such a thing. The whole situation had gotten worse when the woman came into the room one night, silently cursing her cousin and uncle. She had then called him to her bed chambers and..

                …

                Squall didn't want to think about what had happened. Rinoa didn't make any sense to him. She had no reason to play these twisted games—unless the sorceress part in her _knew_..

                No. That wasn't possible. Rinoa had only been attracted to him, or using him in some ploy he couldn't understand. Squall silently cursed his scarless body for getting him into this—or at least how his body use to be.

                Thoughtfully Squall ran his index finger over the scar running between his eyes. He had half the mind to actually thank the prince. This mark had made him fit in more; it made him one of these people when before he had felt like a chocobo among a flock of chickens. Truth be told, Squall enjoyed being apart from the rest, but not in the way that made him stand out. He'd rather be one of them and be isolated within the crowd.

                But yes, he was not angry with the prince for cutting his face. Although Squall was certain the blonde had meant to kill him. 'I can change that' the man had said in reference to the absence of scars on Squall's body. It was just words; just a handful of sand. Yet now Squall had this red line adorning his forehead. It made him curious however, to as why the prince would want to kill him. That night Quezacotl had made a scene out in the desert, and Squall had unwillingly reacted to it—had the blonde figure out the truth, and then decided to murder him?

                That couldn't be it either. If the prince had known, then he would have said something. It was just the man's arrogant way to boast about figuring out dark secrets and such. That prince was a complete jerk. Squall did however blame himself for causing the trouble between them. It was he that provoked the blonde; challenging his power as a prince time and time again. Squall didn't know why he did it. What he did was out of character, or at least it had felt that way.

                But the jesting prince brought a change to routine; he broke the mindless drone to a slave's work. Squall had even thought at one time, that he was thankful that the blonde had _saved_ him from the quarry life that had been slowly running him into the ground. But such thoughts were quickly erased.

                The two cousins were just opposites in Squall's opinion. There was a complete difference in how the sorceress and prince treated him. From their words, manners—even down to the way they touched him. Rinoa's touch was light, deceiving and manipulating—always trying to control him one way or another. But the blonde's was touch was direct and had a purpose. It was simple as that. The prince wasn't trying to trick anything out of Squall, not like Rinoa. No, the prince was only asking for the truth.

                It had almost worked too. Squall had been ready to let the answers slip past his lips late one night. He would have been good as dead if Quezacotl had not been summoned at that same moment.

                Squall could still feel the warm electricity running through his body. The God's power was comforting like a soft rainfall after a hot day of working. Quezacotl had been calling to him that night.

                _But I couldn't go.._

                Squall shook the thoughts from his head. Whatever. That part of his life was over. It was back to routine; back to a bleak existence. This was where nothing would change. It was his place to hide.

                "Hey Squall," a familiar voice broke Squall's brooding.

                Lifting his gaze, Squall finally realized someone was in front of him. It was Zell. The energetic blonde was standing empty basket and flashing an overfriendly grin.

                "Hey man, you've just been standing there. You better get moving before a guard walks by," Zell went on without waiting for a return greeting from the brunet. If he had, it would have been something close to a full moon cycle before he got a response.

                Squall glanced around at reality. He had stopped before of a staircase leading down into a large workshop where Squall was meant to lighten the burden upon his back. He must have really gotten lost in his thoughts in order to break routine. Squall pushed past Zell and began to descend the stairs.

                "Hey wait," Zell reached out and snatched Squall's arm.

                Not appreciating the handling, Squall turned and pulled his arm away—but the blonde's strong fingers didn't release. Usually Squall could get away from the other without having to bother with words. But since Zell had made the effort to have his attention, Squall decided to reward him with a blank gaze.

                "Is something wrong? You seem more out of it than usual," Zell frowned and let the brunet's arm go free.

                _Nothing's wrong._

                Squall pivoted and descended. Zell didn't let the lack of answer bother him, "Yeah, you're right. We should get back to work. I'll see you tonight!"

                Squall barely heard the blonde's last words because it was drowned out by the noise of the busy workshop below. Squall entered a large room filled with bulky stone grinders manned by a different type of slave; oversized men with muscles that bulged when they physically forced the stone wheels to turn.

                Squall swung the heavy basket off his aching shoulders. He then deposited the rocks into a large bin; from there they would be ground into a fine powder. When that was mixed with water it became shapeable clay that hardened to a substance that was stronger than the stone that was currently crushing it.

                "Hey you, pretty boy, get moving," a gruff voice jeered.

                Squall slipped on the lightened basket and turned to cast a mild glare in the direction of a guard stationed near the stairs. The brunet was use to getting irritable comments from the man. Most of the time Squall could get by without having the bull-headed man detect his presence. When by chance that a few comments did come, Squall did as he chose to do now—ignore the words and head back towards the stairs.

                "You must think you're something special," the guard smirked while lowering his spear to block Squall's path. "Not everyone gets the pleasures of working in the palace. You best be forgetting what luxuries those people gave you."

                _Luxuries. Yeah right._ Squall thought dully while quietly scowling at the stone staircase that lay just beyond the guard's spear tip.

                "Because you should know, no one around here cares about what happens to you," the guard laughed lowly a few times. He slapped the flat side of his spear against Squall's chest before lifting it away.

                _Whatever._

                Squall started up the stairs as soon as the weapon was removed from his path. He loathed the attention he had been receiving these past few days after his exile from the palace. It seemed everyone had some joke about why the brunet was picked to serve in the pharaoh's home. Squall just disregarded their words while mentally stating that he didn't care. They all could be ripped to shreds by Cerberus and then rot between his sharp teeth.

                Did they really think it bothered him that no one cared if he was brutally beaten, or even was killed? Hardly. Secretly he _wished_ that some day a guard would lose his temper and 'accidentally' take his life. But death never came, and Squall was forced to follow routine.

                The prince had been so close to fulfilling Squall's dark wishes that night. But at the moment of truth the tall blonde had faltered, leaving Squall with only a single scare to reminisce upon. Then the very next day, the same man that had tried to kill him had come looking for him. Squall had wondered if he was there to finish the job, but the prince then proceeded to save him from a guard's wrath.

                It was confusing to say the least. Squall liked to think the blonde was jealous in some twisted way and wanted to be the one to torment him. In the end, however, the prince didn't act very smug about what he had done. Surprisingly he had turned and ran, leaving Squall to vainly call out his name.

                _Seifer.._

                The name felt wrong to speak, as if Squall didn't have the privilege. When he had seen the other leaving in haste, Squall had used the name anyway. He wanted to know; to ask one question of the prince:

                Why?

                But now the crazy bastard was gone for only the gods know what reason. People gossiped about it, saying the prince had run out into the desert alone. They said that he had gone mad, that his sorceress cousin had put a curse on him in some sort of conspiracy against the High Pharaoh. This talk only led Squall to believe that all the people in the palace were mad, and he pitied the kingdom for being reigned over such pride-blinded fools.

                "Hey you."

                Squall's head snapped up at the commanding voice of a guard. Sure enough there was one nearby and looking directly at him. Mentally grimacing, Squall stopped to hear whatever jest this mad had to say.

                "Are you Squall Leonhart?" the guard asked in a bored tone.

                Squall simply nodded to avoid conversation. The guard gestured with his spear towards the main street of Zamir. "You are being summoned to the palace."

                The brunet's eyebrows drew together with confusion, but he did not ask any questions. He peeled of the empty basket and handed it to another worker. He then walked towards the street that would lead straight up to the palace steps. Off handedly Squall noted how dirty he was—the nobles were very picky about their cleanliness. He would deem it their problem though, not his. After all, he wasn't trying to impress anyone.

                Yet who would be calling him? Both the sorceress and the prince were gone. Or maybe Seifer had returned all ready? Squall doubted the man could manage to stay out in the desert without the pampering of the palace.

                _So much for routine_, Squall bitterly thought. He had thought he'd never again have to see the inside of the palace. He just wanted to disappear, not be pointed out as some 'pet' of the pharaoh.

**End Chapter.**


	10. Black as Ice

**Chapter Ten: Black as Ice**

                The palace was beautiful with its smooth columns that held a ceiling far out of reach and painted with stars. Footsteps would echo musically as a person walked through the rows of disguised stone and admired the history. All around were hieroglyphs that covered the wall from top to bottom with stories of the gods and past pharaohs.

                Squall could understand only a few of the symbols. But the people here enjoyed inserting as many colorful pictures as possible, so the story should have been as easy to understand as a child's picture book. Yet Squall couldn't make sense of any of it. He was not one to ask questions either, so the history of Zamir was out of his grasp, though right at his fingertips at the same time.

                Thoughtfully Squall brushed his fingers across one of the pictures. It was an illustration of a god he recognized to be Cerberus. The three-headed canine had its fangs bared in a ferocious threesome snarl. Next to the god was a pharaoh who sat high and mighty on his thrown. The man was pointing at Cerberus, as if ordering the god to leave.

                Squall ran his fingers over the sand stone that felt like powder under his gentle touch. He then traced an index finger over one of Cerberus' eyes, which glittered like a jewel. The brunet could only wonder what story circled the two images. However, Squall didn't have time to dream up a tale because the grand hallway was filled with the echo of traveling footsteps of a stranger.

                Pushing away from the wall, Squall resumed his walking towards the pharaoh's chambers. He didn't want some priest to catch him and say he was 'disgracing' the historic wall by touching it with his dirty slave hands.

                "Squall," A strong voice called before he could make his escape.

                The brunet acknowledged his name by turning around to face the unfamiliar voice. He didn't expect to find a short, white haired woman standing in the middle of the hall. Her red eyes watched him with the same impassive stare that he wore.

Was this the person who had summoned him?

                "Come," She demanded in a voice that echoed loudly in the hall. She then turned on her heel and disappeared into a narrow passage between two of the large columns.

                Squall quickly caught up to her while mentally noting that this path led away from the pharaoh's chambers. He was bursting to ask the other about the circumstances surrounding his reason of summoning, but it was difficult to keep up with the girl. For someone her size, she could move as fast and light as a gust of wind.

                Through the twists and turns of the palace she led him until Squall felt completely lost. He had been in the palace before, but not in this particular area. Suddenly the girl came to a halt in front of a drop of white silk. She stepped aside and gestured for Squall to enter. The brunet looked at her with questioning eyes, but she merely motioned a second time.

                Maybe whoever summoned him was behind that curtain?

                Curiosity took over and Squall entered the room. On the other side of the silk laid a room that had three quarters filled with water. He took a step further and observed the nice flat stone that smoothed the floor around the shallow pool and even went under the water. Squall glanced towards the far end where the opposing wall was absent. Instead the room was open to the river, which explained the source of water. There were others present; servant girls that were staring at Squall with their own silent questions.

                _What was the meaning of this?_

                "Wash," The white haired woman answered his mental question then pointed to the water while simultaneously nodding to the servants.

                They jumped to life at once. Squall felt his breath hitch in his throat as they crowded around him. They stripped him so quickly and subtly that it took Squall a few second to realize his nudity. Before he could dignify himself enough to be embarrassed, the girls had led him into the sun-warmed water.

                A prominent blush spread like fire over Squall's cheeks. He glanced at the servants and saw that he was alone in the embarrassment. When he thought a little about it, it was obvious that these girls had probably done this to a number of different people male and female. They seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Still, Squall preferred to bathe _alone_.

                The girls tugged him to deeper water. They didn't have to force him to sit, however, Squall did that on his own free will in order to hide his lower regions. The servants proceeded to pull at his limbs as they took small hard-bristled brushes from their waists, which they then used to scrub savagely at his skin. Layers of dirt collected from working the quarry was being lifted away.

                "Ah!" Squall nearly jumped out of the water when one of the brushes wandered too far up his thigh to be considered friendly. His objecting noise didn't seem to detour the girls from rubbing his skin raw. They continued to wash him until Squall felt like they were scrubbing a bristle of needles over his muscles. Squall began to struggle, trying to pull his limbs from their grasp. He had had enough of the cruel and unusual treatment. There was no possible way they treated others this roughly.

                In the end it was no use. He _could_ get away from them, but he couldn't find it in himself to run naked. So instead he decided to endure the twisted sense of torture with a deep blushing scowl. Squall could swear he heard that red-eyed girl laughing at him.

                Buckets of water were poured over his head. Hands and soaps were rubbed through his hair. Squall was then dragged out of the water, dried, and dressed into the light gray tunic and shorts that he had wished to never wear again. Finishing, the girls dabbed him with oils that were scented with an enticing smell of mix of spices.

                Squall was still scowling by the time the girls finally retreated. The faint remains of a blush still clung to his cheeks as he turned to face the bemused smile of the white haired girl. He looked as if he had gotten severely sunburned by the way his skin had turned red from the brutal washing. Squall could say that it certainly felt as if he had gotten burned.

                "Come," her monotone order contrasted with the smile on her lips and the shining in her crimson eyes. Once again she turned and walked off, disappearing through the curtain.

                "Wait," Squall spoke up, adopting the one worded speech. There was a long pause where the brunet refused to follow, and the white haired woman refused to return. Since Squall had already been thoroughly embarrassed, Squall didn't see any problem with breaking his previous silence.

                Finally the girl gave in and returned with a mild glare of annoyance. Her arms crossed warningly over her chest. Squall mimicked the pose with his own arms, "Why am I here?"

                The girl didn't respond; only looked aside with a sad frown. Squall didn't understand her reaction. He was about to ask his question again, but she disappeared through the curtains a second time. This time Squall decided to follow with a determined mind to get an answer. He couldn't wait to find out where they were going, it felt like suicide to wait until the end; like this woman was leading him to be fed to a ravenous pack of dogs.

                Again through the twists she moved with Squall trailing behind her. The brunet asked again about whom she was taking him to see, but there was nothing but silence to answer his words. Squall finally resorted to reaching out and firmly placing a hand on the girl's shoulder to bring her to a stop.

                She whirled on him with defiant eyes that should have been crimson, but somehow they had turned into a pair of blue-gray storms. Squall took a step back at the strange appearance and the hallucination faded at once. He found himself staring at red once more.

                _I'm treating her like he did to me,_ Squall thought privately while letting a slight frown show. _At least I sort of understand why he always did it.._

                The white hair girl shook her head at Squall. She turned again and led the way, this time taking a slower pace to keep the brooding brunet in tow. Squall got the slightest impression that perhaps he didn't want to know where she was taking him.

                They moved into a more familiar hallway and Squall began to instinctively shell himself away. His actions switched to autopilot while his feelings were neatly tucked away into the far corners of his mind so nothing but a dark void was left. This was his protection, an ice-cold darkness that would nullify everything before it could reach him.

                They turned and entered a recognizable room. As Squall passed through the entry he didn't even feel the soft touch a silk over his skin that continued to burn from the rough scrubbing. He got a twisted sense of satisfaction that his walls of black ice were so well constructed.

Squall felt, and tried to ignore the eyes that watched his every mechanical move through the room. Even the darkness couldn't completely kill the intensity of that gaze, so Squall adverted his eyes to look at the polished marble floor—only to see the person reflected on the surface.

                "Are you not going to welcome me back, Squall?"

**End Chapter.**


	11. Revelation

**Author's Note: **_Sorry for the last two 'blah' chapters. I was just trying to get everything in place before I move the story forward. I'll make up for it with this chapter!—I hope. And no Skurai, I don't hate Rinoa. In the game she seemed so helpless to me, it was irking. So thus I gave her power!_

­­­­­­­­­­­­______________________________________________________**  
  
Chapter Ten: Revelation**

                "Did you miss me?" The voice crooned.

                Squall didn't bother to answer. He saw the figure in the reflective surface walk towards him. The faint scent of jasmine flowers flowed with the familiar grace that Squall knew belonged to the black haired sorceress—even though he had yet to look directly at her.

                The ends of her faded blue robes came into view of Squall's downcast eyes. He turned his head away to fixate his dulled gaze on a different blue; the blue of the free sky outside the window.

                Rinoa watched intently, noticing the strange mark on Squall's forehead when he shifted his gaze. She moved to him and raised a hand up to graze his cheek. Rinoa softly coaxed the brunet's face to look at her, so that her dark eyes could examine the blood red scar slashing diagonally between Squall's paled gray eyes. The gentle smile she had been wearing vanished at once, "What happened?"

                Squall mentally sighed—out of both annoyance and relief. He was irritated by the fact that Rinoa was making a big deal out of something as insignificant as a scar. But he also was thanking the crazy prince who had made it because of the way Rinoa almost looked appalled at the sight was priceless.

                After a moment of silence, where Squall supplied no answer, Rinoa backed away and glared towards the doorway. "Fujin!"

                The white haired girl from before looked up from her position against the stonewall near the curtained passage. She arched a questioning eyebrow at the sorceress' less-than-friendly tone of voice.

                "What happened to his face?" Rinoa demanded.

                Fujin lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug then apathetically stared towards the windows.

                Rinoa narrowed her eyes threateningly at Fujin, "If you don't know that, then you can at least tell me where you found him."

                Fujin spared the sorceress a brief, empty glance. She lifted a hand and began to examine her nails in an unconcerned manner. "Quarry."

                "How did he get there!?" Rinoa fumed.

                "Walked," Fujin answered sardonically but with a dead serious expression.

                Squall watched the exchange from behind his mental wall of ice. He thought the answers to the questions would have been quite obvious. It was Seifer who always made the threats and tried to aggravate Rinoa whenever the opportunity came. Even Squall could pick up on the dangerous tension between the two cousins. And judging by the way Rinoa looked about ready to kill, Squall assumed the prince had succeeded in infuriating the sorceress.

                _And how? By slashing my face? All of that was just to win some stupid power game?_

                Squall felt the ice in his mind melt from a burning anger that had suddenly taken flame. The scar on his forehead throbbed almost painfully with the new tide of emotion. He no longer held forgiveness for what Seifer had done. Squall just felt utterly bitter about being used.

                "Of course he walked, I didn't expect him to ride around in my litter! I wanted to know who sent him there, you worthless bitch," Rinoa growled at the insolence. Fujin opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Rinoa's upraised hand. "Silence. I don't want to hear you speak again. I know who sent him to the quarry, spare me your worthless reply."

                Fujin seemed to hold back a sigh. Squall easily recognized the small pause of breath that he often found himself doing. He also noticed that the tension between these two was similar to the one between the sorceress and the prince. That only led Squall to believe that Fujin was not one of Rinoa's servants. Instead she had to be one of Seifer's; they both showed arrogance that was remarkably similar.

                Fujin turned to exit, only to be stopped by Rinoa once again, "I didn't say you could leave. Tell me where that bull-headed cousin of mine is."

                "Gone," Squall found himself saying aloud. His voice sounded hostile with the newfound outlook on the prince. Rinoa must have heard it because she smiled at him as if she had found an ally.

                "I can only hope that by 'gone' you mean he is dead, but that is unlikely. Where did he go to, Velden perhaps?" Rinoa turned her attention to Squall while supplying him with possible answers.

                Squall glanced towards the door where Fujin was glaring at him. He had expected the white haired servant to answer the question, but it seemed she was angry at him for telling Rinoa what little he had. Why was she surprised though? Squall didn't feel a sense of loyalty to Seifer, or to Rinoa. Actually he disliked them both and now was beginning to hope that they would kill one another and leave him out their petty fight.

                He looked back at the expectant brown eyes that were urging him to respond. Squall complied after telling himself that there was no point in doing things halfway; that he should finish what he started. Squall also decided he wanted to answer Rinoa's question if only for the satisfying feeling of being against the prince instead of putting up with his antics, "He fled into the desert."

                "Like the true coward he is," Rinoa commented thoughtfully. She smirked at Fujin while keeping her eyes keenly on Squall, "Do you happen to know why he ran?"

                Squall nodded but felt apprehensive about explaining why. The way the sorceress' eyes shone with dark interest made him hesitate. How was he supposed to tell Rinoa that Seifer had left after killing a guard in order to save him? If she knew that, Squall was certain that he would be forced to remain a pawn for both the sorceress and prince.

                Yet it was better that she received an answer from him instead of hearing it from someone else's lips. Other people would tell things that Squall would like to keep secret, "He killed one of the guards in the quarry."

                Rinoa seemed pleased with the given information and did not press further. She retained her silence for a moment. Squall could practically see the wheels turning in her head. Whatever she was thinking it must have been pleasing because she was broadly smiling by the time she spoke.

                "It's a pity that he isn't here. I brought back a gift for him," She gestured to a box on the table. Squall had not noticed it before since he was concentrating on the ice in his mind. Now that he looked, he became aware of the cold air the object emitted. It was a black box set in the middle of a low wooden table. Squall could sense the magical aura around the box and also could see a few symbols carved into the wooden sides.

                Rinoa saw him analyzing the box and stepped close to him once more. She smiled up at his blank expression when their eyes met. "Do you know what that is?"

                _It's a box._

                Squall kept the satirical comment to himself. He shook his head and look away. The coldness of the box seemed to sink into his skin. It wasn't the kind of icy touch that made a man shiver; this was more like the chilling touch of death. The very color of the box was disturbing to view—the un-faded black like that of raven feathers, the very symbol of death. It only strengthened Squall's dark thoughts about what was _inside_ the box, not what the box itself was.

                "Are you sure?" Rinoa chimed with a knowing grin.

                Squall glanced from the box to the sorceress. His heart quickly jumped a few times before he was able to quelled his escalating alarm. The brunet shook his head again while keeping a straight face. On the inside his mind was telling him _exactly_ what 'that' was.

                _It's an ice spell used with the power of Shiva. When it is casted on an object with snaring encryptions the spell becomes frozen until the object is broken. In this case, the ice spell will remain in effect until the box is opened._

                "Hmm, maybe I'll tell you some other time," Rinoa mused and switched her attention to Fujin.

                Squall felt his fingers twitching nervously at his sides. He crossed his arms to keep the shaking from climbing up his arms. Rinoa was testing him, trying to catch him off guard. But if she knew the truth, then what was the point of this dance they were performing?

                "Fujin, I'm disappointed that you are not as useful as others led me to believe," Rinoa started in on the servant.

                Her tone of voice drew Squall's attention. The brunet lifted his eyes to watch the two. He almost felt concerned for Fujin's sake. The white haired girl was maintaining an expression calmer than Squall was managing. Rinoa in turn had on a smug smile that rivaled Seifer's smirk.

                "They had said you know everything that goes on in this castle. I was deceived if a man working in the quarry has more information than you," Rinoa paused to flash a small smile in Squall's direction. "Or maybe you knew and was holding back to help hide Seifer for the pitiful coward he is."

                "Never," Fujin responding while swiping her arm through the air between herself and Rinoa. "Seifer is no coward."

                "Hn, he sure runs like one," Rinoa boldly retorted. She brushed a few strands of black hair over her should and turned his backside towards the irate servant. "You are dismissed. I expect you to return before dinner is served. Until then do what you wish because I shall see to it personally that you will no longer work in the palace."

                _Wishful thinking_, Squall thought while remembering how Seifer had told him the palace had no place for 'scarred' servants—yet here he was once again. He watched as Fujin left and Rinoa stood quiet in contemplation. His eyes then wandered back to the black box.

                "He had no reason to leave," Rinoa broke his daze with her gentle tone.

                Squall forced his attention back to the sorceress. He didn't want her to catch him staring. There was something meaningful in that box. But what could she store in a square container that he judged to be roughly the height from his elbow to his wrist?

                _The most powerful things usually come in small proportions_, a distant memory whispered in Squall's mind. He remembered an old friend telling him that very phrase while handing him a wrapped object that barely filled the palm of his hand. But that felt like such a long time ago..

                "He shall return. Give him time and he will come crawling back. Dirty and broken, but he will still come," Rinoa spoke but it sounded more like she was assuring herself. She walked towards the low table then sat on a couch situated alongside.

                Squall couldn't seem to picture the prince coming back in the way Rinoa envisioned. He couldn't see the man doing anything that would humiliate himself. It seemed to be Seifer's way to be full of pride even when he was beaten. Even if the prince had been born a slave, the blonde would probably still have been as strong-willed.

                "In the meanwhile I shall enjoy his things," Rinoa said more cheerfully. She rolled on the couch so she was lying on her stomach. She was grinning at Squall and almost appeared innocent in his eyes.

                In front of the other people Squall noticed that Rinoa was vicious; always posed like a poisonous snake ready to strike. But when he was alone with her, Rinoa seemed friendlier, more human—at least when she wanted something from him. Squall didn't know if she dropped her shields because she trusted him, or was just playing innocent in hopes that he would trust her and answer those not-so-casual questions of hers.

                _Not likely._

                "Except that servant girl of his. I have no use for her because of that pathetic loyalty she has to him," Rinoa continued to talk while tracing a finger in circles along the couch cushion. "No one should be that foolish. Seifer will only drag his loyal subjects down with him. Sit?"

                Squall knew it wasn't an offer he could politely refuse. He stiffly walked over to a chair next to Rinoa's couch and sat. The sorceress smiled and propped her chin up on her hands to have a better view of the brunet. "People should learn to be more like me. I live for only myself, because you can't expect others to help get what you want in life. All you have in the end is yourself anyway. There is no use in trying to make a life that would be perfect for you and someone else, it never works out, that other person always sees things differently and want only what _they_ want. The trick in life is to trust only those you need to trust."

                Squall sparred Rinoa a tense glance. If she only trusted those useful to her, then why was she telling him? He was no one that could be of use. He _hoped_ she would have no need for him. He was a no one. Just a slave. Nothing more. A slave. A no one.

                "But even people like Fujin serve a purpose," Rinoa swung her legs over the edge and stood. "So I have on more use for that girl."

                She drifted in front of Squall and leaned forward while planting her hands on his knees. She brought her face so Squall could smell the scented oils, and determine exactly where she had dabbed them onto her fair skin. He pressed back into the chair to avoid brushing noses with the sorceress.

                Rinoa smiled and withdrew slightly, "But I need you to do something for me to make sure she serves her purpose."

                Squall glanced down at the hand creeping up the inside of his leg but stopped around mid-thigh. Her fingers lingered on his lightly tanned skin, pressing faintly to let him know where they were. Squall shifted to push further back into the chair and lifted his blue-gray eyes to silently question the sorceress.

                "What do I want you to do you ask? Well.." She showed her attractive smile while lifting away the trespassing hand. Gently she ran her index finger over the scar between Squall's eyes. "Since he scarred one of my servants.."

                Squall couldn't believe what he was hearing. Rinoa was suggesting that he should go and attack Fujin, just to get even with that stupid cousin of hers? He would _not_ be part of their game any longer. They would have to do their own dirty work.

                "You can't expect others to help you get what you want," Squall icily repeated her earlier words.

                Rinoa jerked backwards like the words were a slap across the face. She stared shocked with a partial gaping mouth. The look was soon covered with an angry glare. She turned her back on the brunet and faced the black box instead. "You're right. I guess I have to do everything by myself."

                Squall pressed even further into the chair, wishing he could just disappear. He shouldn't have said that to Rinoa. She was different than Seifer. The prince would laugh, or retort with some sarcastic remark. Not the sorceress. Squall had seen plenty of people suffer after disrespecting Rinoa. She was the type to remain calm, then as soon as the person turned their back a dagger would find it's sheath in their side.

                Rinoa calmly reached forward and traced her fingers along the top of the box. She then turned back to face Squall, "I thought you were different than that Squall. It seems in my short absence you have picked up on some of my cousin's deplorable habits. I was going to make you special too.."

                Squall tensed as the sorceress stepped forward while stretching out her arm. She traced her fingers along his arm—his skin turned blue and frosted in the zigzag pattern she drew. Squall knew she had taken a small amount of power from the spell-snare box. The ice spell clung to her fingers, the ones she used to pass the frigid power onto his skin. Even though it was cold, it felt like fire to his senses.

                As soon as the blue appeared, it disappeared to leave Squall's arm untouched. Rinoa smiled while Squall confirmed that the sorceress definitely knew his secret—or at least one of them.  
  
                "I knew you were different than the others. You are one of _us_," Rinoa eagerly explained, but managed to keep the words from spilling past her lips.

                Squall could only mentally wince at the way Rinoa used the term. He knew she didn't mean that he was one of the royalty, or noble people. She was talking about a completely different type of people.

                "I could feel it that night, when I summoned Quezacotl. I felt your power along with mine. You must have as well because I did it so close to Zamir. It's because when one of us summons, both of us summon. All of _us_ have someone who we are connected to, someone who we share our power with, someone who is our other half, our opposites."

                Squall stared at the rambling woman. He was starting to think she was crazy by the way she was going on about this 'us' and other halves. He also knew that what she was saying wasn't a lie. She was speaking the truth, but it sounded so absurd—Just like it had the first time he had been told.

                "I didn't believe you were my other half, so I had to test you. I cannot tolerate Shiva's powers, but you," Rinoa grabbed Squall's arm to examine where the blue lines had once been. "You are able to handle her cold power."

                Squall pulled his arm away from Rinoa and tried to play deaf to her excited words. It all made perfect sense now, to why the sorceress had taken him from the quarry that day. Squall had spent years hiding who he was, denying and suppressing what magical abilities he had. He had done it for so long that he could no longer sense others that had the ability, so he thought they couldn't find him.

                He didn't want to be what she was talking about. Squall was _not_ a sorcerer..

                "I always knew you were special, like me." Rinoa spoke, but was cut off by Squall's abrupt stand.

                "I'm not like you.." he hissed in a voice barely higher than a whisper.

                Rinoa looked thoughtful for a moment as she silently stared up at him. "Squall, don't be foolish now. I'm giving you the chance of a lifetime. If we stick together we can become unbeatable. It's not often that two halves find one another."

                She sat herself back on the couch while observing Squall's distress, "Just think about the possibilities. I could become a High Priestess, and you High Priest. We could easily take over this land and rule it side by side. Perhaps even as husband and wife.."

                Squall listened to Rinoa say the last phrases suggestively. He clenched his jaw tightly and crossed his arms over his chest. Even though the sorceress was beautiful, he couldn't find himself to be attracted because he knew of the ugly scales that hid beneath the outwards appearance. "I want nothing to do with you."

                Rinoa let the smile fade from her lips as soon as she realized the proposition did not tempt Squall. She crossed one leg over the other and pressed her lips into a thin line. "You can't deny that we are the same."

                Squall shook his head, "We're nothing alike."

                "I suppose you are right," Rinoa faked a sigh then flashed a smile full of spite. "You are too weak in comparison to me."

                "..Whatever," Squall kept his face as calm as possible.

                "I gave you a chance Squall, I really did. I was even willing to overlook that hideous scar, but if you truly refuse me I have to let you go back to the pitiful existence in which I found you." Rinoa calmly stated.

                Scowling, Squall turned his head aside while shifting his weight to the left foot. He didn't give a damn anymore. He didn't want to hear Rinoa stretching this issue any more than it should go. She could go talk to a wall for all he cared. Squall was not even going to consider this issue a problem. It would be ignored like everything else.

                "You are dismissed, slave," Rinoa gestured towards the door. "And when the moment comes, expect no mercy."

                _Just like that?_

                Squall looked skeptically towards the door then headed out without a backwards glance. He knew this wouldn't be over. The sorceress he knew would never let something such as this slip through her fingers. Squall was going to pay, one way or another..

                _I don't care. I am not a sorcerer.._

**End Chapter.**


	12. Black under the Moonlight

**Chapter Twelve: Black under the Moonlight**

                Squall made sure that he did not linger in the palace. He had left it as fast as he could without drawing the attention of the guards. It felt like he was running, even though he took a slow casual pace of one foot in front of the other.

                He wanted to run far away, maybe into the desert like the prince. But what was the point? Squall was already keeping a low profile in this town. It didn't make sense for him to hide from his hiding spot. It wouldn't make one bit of difference if he moved to another town; someone would soon find him again.

                Or maybe he didn't want to leave.

                Squall didn't know. Somehow he had taken root within this new life of a slave. He had new friends that truly cared for his well being. Albeit, he only had two friends, but it was enough—literally, those two had enough energy combined to count for at least ten people.

                Zell and Selphie were their names. Each of them always could manage to smile even though times were hard. A life of a slave was never easy, but they managed well enough.

                The short blonde, Zell, had been the one to find Squall dehydrated and passed out in the desert. The strong man had carried him all the way to Zamir. Selphie had taken over from there. The petite brunette was a professional mother hen. She had given up her own bed for the nearly lifeless Squall. There was little hope to save him, but Selphie had stayed by his side and scarcely slept. She fed him herself, the honey, water and herb mixture that sustained life.

                Then one day Squall woke up from the darkness and was greeted by two relieved smiles. Only later did he learn that Zell had been running away from his life of slavery when he had stumbled across Squall in the desert. By taking him all the way back to Zamir, Zell had also brought himself back to the life under a guard's whip—just in hopes of giving Squall a second change at life.

                Zell had not been the only one to make sacrifices. Selphie had suffered for Squall's sake as well. During the days when she faithfully sat by his side, she had been skirting her work. Guards would come by checking the houses for slackers and each day the brunette would argue that she had to stay home. Sometimes she even had to fight them off and the scars on her arms were proof enough.

                The two had shared their small home and what little food and water they had with Squall. He felt like he owed them deeply. He also couldn't help but feel like a burden every time he saw Selphie's scars or when he caught Zell looking longingly towards the desert.

                 Because of this debt, Squall didn't have the ice of heart to just run away from his problem with the sorceress. They had given him a second chance at life, even though Squall had been wishing to die.

                But maybe he wanted to live after all?

                Regardless, Squall couldn't face those two just yet. He couldn't go home or return to work. Instead he would retreat to the temple that was calling to him. A cold power was pulsating from his arm. Squall needed to return it to its rightful owner, Shiva.

                _______________________________________________________

                "At least you still follow orders," Rinoa sang the words while exiting her bedchambers.

                Fujin stood passively near the doorway. Her face wore an apathetic expression, but Rinoa could sense the uneasy aura around the other woman. There was no response as usual. It didn't matter. Nothing Fujin could say would mean, or change anything.

                Rinoa smiled and walked towards one of her room windows. The desert was absolutely stunning. It was evening now and the sand was burning with the dying colors of the sun. From this window Rinoa could see the river stretching into the distance. The wave sparkled with the colors of fire, ones that were more alive than the ones of the sand dunes.

                _Spectacular._

                "Once I dismiss you tonight, you are to return to the town and resume your work in the quarry," Rinoa spoke while laying her hand on the windowsill. A cold metal object greeted her fingertips.

                A cruel smile passed over her lips as she took the metal chisel into her hand. Rinoa turned around to face Fujin while keeping both arms folded behind her back.

                "Now tell me where Seifer is hiding.."

                ­_____________________________________________________

                Squall remained in Shiva's temple until nightfall. The priests didn't seem to mind his presence. Actually, none of them even noticed him. All of them were bustling over the recent blessing from the goddess. It seems that part of her statue had actually frozen over.

                'She is trying to speak to us!' they raved.

                _Fools,_ Squall thought as he silently slipped out of the temple. It was _he_ who had frozen half of the ice maiden's statue. Squall wasn't disrespecting the goddess; he was merely returning the power to its rightful place.

                Rinoa had put the energy into his body and he needed to discard it. There was no reason for him to keep it—there was going to be _no_ later use of the magic. Squall did not wish to draw power and store it. [1] He didn't want anything to do with magic! It was only by a twist of fate that he was able to not only draw and stock magical power; he was able to cast—perhaps even summon a god. It all started that day…

                Squall violently shook his head. He would _not_ think about the past.

                He exited the temple and was greeted by the crisp night air. The night was always so calm and silent. Squall loved the tranquility. The shades of blues and grays streaked with depthless black shadows soothed his soul. But it was only temporary, Squall needed to return to a mother hen that would be worrying.

                Squall shrugged himself loose of the night's grip. He began to quicken his pace but stopped dead in his tracks when he heard someone stumbling around the corner ahead of him. Squall pressed against the wall hoping that this late night wanderer was not a prowling guard.

                A small wooden crate went rolling over the stony path followed by a string of sharp curses. Pale fingers flecked with blood gripped the corner. Squall watched as the figure pulled itself out from behind the building.

                Short silver hair hung limply in the girl's eyes. Her pale skin was tinted a faded blue under the moonlight. A dark liquid rivet down from her left eyes—where her hand was pressed to hide whatever injury had occurred.

                Squall instantly recognized Fujin. He silently gaped at the sight as the girl staggered forward with one arm reaching towards the next building for support.

                A stab of guild made Squall wince at the sad situation. He knew Fujin was at risk of injury; Rinoa had made that obvious. The sorceress must have known he wouldn't of gone and warned the girl—he was too self-absorbed in his own problems to even care at the time.

                Squall let his head tilt down in shame. Then against his will, he walked up to Fujin and gently took her arm in effort to help. The brunet didn't expect to be roughly shoved away. Squall backed away a step as Fujin whirled on him. Crimson eyes burned with familiarity.

                "You," Fujin growled the word hatefully while taking an apposing step towards the brunet.

                Squall backed off another step. Why was she angry at him? He was only trying to help her out—maybe take her to Selphie to get her wound treated. Squall sighed and reached out again, "Come with me, you're hurt.."

                "IDIOT!" Fujin yelled and retreated out of range.

                Squall winced and let his arm drop loosely to his side. He glanced nervously around at the dark shadows. The loudness of Fujin's voice worried Squall. If the night watch guards found them there was no telling what punishment they would receive.

                "Fujin, calm down, I'm just trying to help you.." Squall's voice sounded like a whisper after the girl's outburst.

                "NEVER," Her voice, if possible, grew louder. She fisted her hand in anger while the other remained pressed over her left eye.

                "Would you be a bit quieter?" Squall hissed with another wary glance down the vacant streets. "Just came with me and have someone take care of that wound."

                He made another motion to soothe the girl. She swiped her hand through the air to stop him, "RAGE!"

                _Fine._

                Squall turned his back on the stubborn woman. If she wanted to suffer out in the cold empty streets, than so be it. She was just like _him_—so damn headstrong.

                He didn't want to help anyway! It was their problem, not his. Squall's only problem was to think of a good excuse to tell Selphie and Zell when he got home.

                **End Chapter.**

**_________________________________­­­­­­­___________**

**A/N:** _Just a little chapter to explain a tiny bit on why Squall was in Zamir._

[1] Draw, Cast, Stock. It's the magic system of the game. Wait.. don't they have to be junctioned to a GF in order to be able to use those abilities? Oh yes, yes they do :3__


	13. Promise Me

**Chapter Thirteen: Promise Me**

                Squall wandered the west side of the Zamir. The houses were small and identical. The stones showed signs of erosion, and some of the walls looked ready to crumble. This part of the city was in poor shape, but the people who lived here were just glad to have a place to come home to at night.

                Squall made sure to walk lightly through the empty streets. Everyone was asleep—they deserved the rest after a hard days labor. The windows of the one-story houses were shadows, except for one. Squall could see a candle burning in a house just a dozen feet ahead of him.

                A tattered blanket hung in the entrance in the place of a door. The fabric was worn so much that the light of the candle inside could be seen through the threads. It was just one of the daily sights that showed the poverty of the people.

                It showed Squall that someone was still awake, waiting for someone—for him.

                 Squall paused in front of the torn blanket. He took a deep breath to calm himself and put on an impassive expression. He pushed the blanket aside and entered.

                A candle was burning on the table. The wax was nearly gone leaving but a small wick in its place. A small figure was slumped over the table in slumber. Squall smiled at the girl he recognized to be Selphie. She must have fallen asleep while waiting for him. Selphie would always stay up to make sure everyone made it home safe.

                In the corner, Squall could hear the snoring of his other friend, Zell. The blonde was stretched out on his bed without a care in the world.

                Squall crept quietly towards his own bed. He picked up his blanket; nothing more than a thin sheet. Carefully he went back over to the table. Squall gently laid the blanket over Selphie's shoulders. He noticed her hand on the table that was gripping a sewing needle.

                _That's an accident waiting to happen_.

                Squall picked the needle out of her grasp. Suddenly the girl jumped to life—nearly knocking over her chair in the process. She blinked wildly up at Squall until she recognized him. A broad smile lit up her face.

                "You're home! I was worried about you—" She latched her arms around his neck in a brief glomping hug. Selphie detached herself just as quickly knowing Squall didn't like to be touched. She looked him over a few times to make sure he was well. It was then she noticed the clothes he was wearing, "They took you to the palace again? What for this time?"

                Squall looked down at his garments. A frown tugged at the corners of his lips. He couldn't say the truth, but he felt bad to lie to her. "Nothing important."

                "They let you go again?" She tilted her head questionably.

                Squall smirked bitterly, "It seems this scar makes me clash with their rooms of silk and marble."

                Selphie stared at him for a moment. She didn't seem to find what he said amusing. In fact she looked rather confused. Her brown eyes were dull, and then suddenly sparkled, "Oh! I made you something while I was waiting. Its—"

                She frantically looked around the room. She searched the tabletop, picking up a small ball of green thread. "It was right here, I swear."

                Squall's eyebrows drew together in curiosity. He set the needle down on the wooden table and watched as the girl got down on her hands and knees then began searching the floor. She crawled under the table, mumbling to herself.

                "Aha!" She shouted while rising. Her head bumped against the underside of the table. Selphie cried out again but this time in pain. She crawled out from under the table and climbed to her feet to stand before Squall. "Hold out your hands!"

                Squall lightly shook his head at the girl. She was so innocent in her child-like mannerisms. Sometimes Squall wondered if she even knew that she was a slave. After giving her a hard look—in which she refused to drop her game—Squall complied by putting both his hands out.

                Selphie smiled happily, "I've noticed that you've been acting kind of mopey since you last came back from the palace. So I made you this—"

                A round yellow object was dropped into his awaiting hands. Squall lifted it to eye level to be examined.

                "—It's one of those.. those—oh what were they called? Zell?" Selphie looked towards the slumbering blonde who only snored in response. Selphie huffed then seized the thread ball off the table and threw it accurately at Zell's side. "Get up you lazy sack of bones!"

                Zell stirred but Squall was no longer paying attention, he was turning the gift over in his hands. It was a small doll—but not of a person; this was of a chocobo. It was made of a dull yellow fabric with orange strings for legs. Squall rubbed his thumb over one of the chocobo's eyes, which was nothing more than green thread sewn into the yellow.

                It was a very thoughtful gift. Squall use to tell Selphie and Zell about the large intelligent birds that lived where he came from. He had wondered why they don't have chocobos in or around Zamir when he first came. He had drawn one in the sand to show his friends, but they had laughed saying it looked like an oversized chicken.

                Selphie was at his side once more. She looked hopefully up at his blank expression, "Do you like it?"

                Squall stared at the faded gold peaked with emerald thread for eyes. It was vaguely familiar. He opened his mouth to answer but his attention was drawn to Zell who had stumbled out of his bed. The blond was looking irate from being awakened. "What? I'm up. What for?"

                "Ooh, you're such a grouch Zell," Selphie wrinkled her noise at the blonde. She then pointed to the doll perched in Squall's hands. "Do you remember what those were called?"

                Zell's vibrant blue eyes glanced towards the object, "A chicken."

                "Noo! Don't you remember what those things were that Squall told us about? The big birds that you could ride and there were different kinds.." She trailed off with a thoughtful frown.

                "Oh yeah. Chobos or something," Zell mumbled before yawning.

                "Yes! Chobo—" Selphie turned back to Squall once again grinning madly. "This one is a gold chobo, the best kind, just like for you."

                Squall weakly smiled at the beaming girl. She had taken some pride in the gift. It was great of her to remember something that he said, even if she called them by the wrong name. Selphie was a wonderful person, albeit over eager and protective at times.

                "Do you like it?" Selphie asked a second time while latching to his arm.

                Squall glanced again at the gold with green. The blonde and jade. Squall frowned at the sudden remembrance. Selphie saw his change in express. She frowned alongside him, "Did I do something wrong..?"

                Gray eyes glanced at the honey brown brimming with held back tears. Obviously his acceptance of this doll meant more to her than Squall thought. Of course he liked the idea of the gift—he just wasn't sure if he liked what the colors reminded him of.

                Dull yellow, like the sandy blonde hair of a certain prince. Green threads that matched well, just like _his_ intense jade orbs. Even the very idea of the doll—Gold, a chocobo greater than all the others. Gold, the color for royalty.

                _Why am I thinking about him.._

                '_Maybe because he saved your pathetic hide for no reason' _The back of Squall's mind muttered in response.

                "Squall?" Selphie quietly called him out of his internal thoughts. "..Do you not like it?"

                "It reminds me of Seifer.." Squall absently said when he had actually meant to say 'Yes'.

                The doll was snatched out of his hands, breaking his stare of the familiar colors. Selphie was now hiding the object from his sight. "I'm sorry Squall, I didn't realize.." She bit her lower lip to keep the tears from spilling over her cheeks. She was an emotional person; Selphie knew this but couldn't help but be upset. "I'll make a new on. It'll be a black—that was a good one too, right?"

                "That Seifer," Zell spoke the name with obvious distaste. He shadowboxed for a moment, pretending the prince was standing before him. "If he didn't have those guards around him kissing his feet all the time, I'd teach him for calling me a chicken."

                Squall felt oddly upset at the short blonde. He watched the other throw a few fast punches at the invisible target. Zell dropped his hands then grinned at Squall, "I'd beat him into a bloody pulp for hurting you."

                "Don't bother," Squall blurted out without thinking. His words sounded angry, causing Zell to step back in bewilderment. It wasn't that Squall doubted Zell's melee skills. It was just hat the task of dealing with Seifer was going to be Squall's—no one else would have the pleasure.

                Selphie piped up in order to try and lighten the mood, "He didn't mean it like that Zell. Squall is only tired from—"

                "Oh, forget it Selphie," Zell groaned while sitting himself at the sole table of the room. He crossed his arms and used them as a pillow against the rough wood. "Don't' spoil him any further."

                Squall narrowed his eyes at the comment. Selphie didn't seem to comprehend what Zell said, but Squall knew full well what the blonde meant. It seemed his own friend was making fun of him. Damnit! It wasn't like Squall _wanted_ to go to the palace, he had no choice!

                Squall turned his back and stalked to the far end of the room where his small bed was tucked in the corner. He laid down on the thin sheets and turned himself to face the wall. He didn't have to tolerate that kind of treatment from his own friend.

                "Hey! What's going on? What did I miss?" Selphie glanced from Squall's back to the half-asleep Zell.

                "He's just pouting because he can't get what he wants like he did at the palace," The blonde mused but his voice held bitterness.

                Squall glared at the stonewall. How could Zell say such a thing? Was he just being like this because they woke him up?

                "What are you talking about Zell? They hurt him! Do you think he wanted to be hurt?" Selphie argued. It had been her that had cleaned Squall up after he stumbled home late that night after Seifer had attacked him. Selphie had washed away the dark blood and rubbed salve over the cut to prevent infection.

                It was only natural for her to stand up on Squall's behalf, although he never would bother to put in the effort. He wasn't worth anyone's time. Apparently Selphie was not convinced of that.

                "Honestly Zell, how can you say such a thing?" Selphie inquired for a reason.

                "Selph! You and I both can tell that he's been different since he came back—"

                _Yes, just talk about me like I'm not here._

                "—He's like more depressed than he was before, it's probably because here we don't spoil him like they do at the palace. Squall's not happy with having us as friends, we're just slaves living in a dirty one room house," Zell finished with a sidelong glanced at Squall's back.

                So that was it. Zell was just feeling sorry for himself. Well, he could keep bellyaching, Squall wanted nothing to do with it. He had his own problems to deal with. Now that Rinoa had learned that he was sorcerer, it was only time before she found out the rest of his secrets.

                _Not if we get ride of 'it'._

                Squall curled his arms around his chest and frowned.  _I can't though, I promised I would always keep it with me._

                Despite his thoughts, Squall reached out with one hand and quietly reached under his mattress. He could hear Selphie and Zell arguing, but their voices were like leaves of a tree stirring in the wind—noise that was ignored.

                Fingers curled around a jagged, yet dull metal object. Squall pulled it out, watching as a silver chain dangled from his fisted hand. Drawing it close to his face, Squall opened his hand to observe the ornament. It looked like a cross, except the top was shaped into a beast's head. The creature was frozen in a defiant roar. Squall ran his thumb over the worn metal, remembering…

                **//---**_ It was late at night. Squall knew he shouldn't of been out; the rain was coming down hard, he could barely see his hand in front of his rain soaked face. But he had to see her; just one more time. Squall had to make her understand that what he was doing was the right choice._

_                Thunder boomed in the distance. Squall looked at the vine covered wall inches away. Tilted his head back, he could see a small balcony. Thin curtains flapped wildly with the storms rampaging wind. A faint aura of light from an oil lamp could be seen._

_                She had always been afraid of the storms. Maybe that was the real reason he was here below her balcony—to comfort her from those childish fears._

_                Squall grabbed ahold the tough vines and climbed up the wall like he had done so many times before. He went far enough so that he could grab the stone rails of the balcony. The rain was blinding him, making his ascent slippery but he managed to pull himself over the side and onto the safe solid landing. He just stood there, soaked to the bone but blissfully ignorant of the biting cold._

_                "Squall.."_

_                He looked to the voice, a slender woman was staring quietly from the other side of the curtains. Short brown hair framed her face that wore an expression of familiar calmness. Her gray eyes held all the emotion—a deep sadness that tore at Squall's heart._

_                "I thought you would have left by now.." she softly spoke while pulling her clasped hands close to her chest._

_                Squall looked off to the side in silent answer. He couldn't leave without saying goodbye. The young woman understood his silence. She moved closer to the curtain all the while never letting her eyes leave Squall's face. "I'm glad you came, this one last time."_

_                Squall turned his blue-gray eyes back to the other. He noticed she had broken eye contact and was gazing down at her hands. Silver glinted in the lamplight. Squall eyed the thin chain that dangled from between her fingers._

_                She was aware of his gaze. She opened her hands to reveal the pedant. A jagged cross with a lion's head roaring at the top portion. "I want you to have this Squall.."_

_                "Sis," Squall tried to protest. It wasn't right for him to take the gift she offered. What she held was a necklace that had been passed down from generations—from mother to daughter. It was given to those who were destined to be sorcerers/sorceresses. Squall was no such person. It wasn't right._

_                "No, take it," She argued; not sternly, but with a voice full of sorrow. She stepped out into the rain to join Squall. The rain began to soak through her clothes at once. "Not to remember this place, or the wrong that is being done. I just want you to remember me.."_

_                She held out the silver while fixing her gray eyes on Squall's impassive expression. She looked defiant, even though the rain was pelting down on her exposed skin. He couldn't refuse. Reluctantly Squall stretched out his own hand—she took it in both of hers with the necklace in between. "I just want to know that wherever you go that I can still be with you in some way.. Promise me you will always keep it with you."_

_                Her gently pleading eyes were locked with his. Squall sighed, "I can't—"_

_                "You can, and you will," She firmly stated in a soft voice to cut off his argument. Her hands dropped away from his, leaving the necklace to lie in his palm. Raindrops splattered against the smooth metal. Squall frowned then slipped the necklace on to appease the young woman. Quickly he tucked it under his shirt to remove it from sight. The uneven cross felt oddly warm against the skin of his chest._

_                The girl finally retreated back behind the curtains, out of the cold rain, "Promise me Squall."_

_                He placed a hand over the bump in his shirt. A strange energy was creeping into his body, whatever it was, Squall ignored the sensation. "..I promise."_

_                She smiled happily, yet her eyes looked tired—still filled with the grief. Tears were threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes, or maybe it was just the rain; Squall couldn't tell._

_                "I have to go—" He started but trailed off when the woman nodded her head in agreement._

_                "I know you do," She hugged her arms around her chest and shivered with the storm. "I just don't want you to go."_

_                It was time to leave. Squall turned to the balcony's edge where he could climb down. As he moved over the railing and began his decent, the woman suddenly appeared at the balcony's edge._

_                "Always keep him with you, he will protect you. Listen to me Squall, Griever will always watch over you," She called out through the storm. Tears ran down her cheeks. There was just a way he could tell she was crying; there was just that difference to how a tear fell and how a raindrop fell. _**---//**

                "Zell, you're suppose to be his friend," Selphie's angry tone brought Squall out of his flashback.

                "How can I be that when he won't be _my_ friend. All he does is ignore me when I talk to him!"

                Squall frowned at the words. He fisted his hand around the lion cross. He wasn't a good friend, he knew that. He also couldn't keep promises either. It was stupid of him to make such a promise to her—Squall knew that he had made that promise just to make her happy. In the end he just broke his word. He never kept the necklace with him. Squall had always hid the object. Could he really be blamed? If he wore it then a guard or a thief would quickly snatch it away from him. But Squall also did it on purpose. This item that was given to him was enchanted—every since the first day he wore the necklace it had felt like something had possessed him. Squall had become aware of the magical energy in the world. Worse yet, Squall found that he could even control it.

                All because of the necklace. Everything was because of the silver lion that roared against the inside of his palm. This cross was the cause to the problem in the palace. It was one of the reasons Squall had fled from home. It cursed him with abilities he should not have.

                It was time to end it all.

                _I'm sorry Sis, I just can't keep it with me anymore,_ Squall stood from his bed and marched past Selphie and Zell without so much as a glance. The duo stopped arguing at once to stare at the brunet.

                "W-wait, where are you going?" Selphie voice spoke up.

                Squall paused at the door. He thought of a few lies he could spin, but in the end he just cast a blank look at the small woman. Squall then turned and disappeared through the door. As he moved down the empty street he could still hear the other two.

                "Look at what you did Zell!" Selphie shout was soon followed by the unmistakable sound of her hand hitting the side of Zell's head.

                "Ow, I didn't mean—I'm sorry—Ow!"

                Their voices died away as Squall put more distance between himself and his caretakers. Sometimes he believed that the gods were truly against him. Somehow they had found the two most obnoxious people, stuck them into a room together, then they had placed Squall right into the middle of it all as some kind of cruel joke.

                But he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why he was out in the cold of night with the necklace fisted tightly in his right hand. He would rid himself of the cursed necklace. He would throw it down the well and it would be all over. The magic, the paranoia, Rinoa—it was all going to stop. Once he got rid of the necklace, the sorcerer powers that were bestowed upon him would disappear.

                Then and only then would Squall feel the serenity of freedom. Maybe he could even find it in himself to be friendlier with Zell, since he wouldn't have anything to hide then. Squall didn't want to be by himself anymore; always paranoid about what laid around every corner. He was tired of having to hide.

                _I'm sorry. I don't know what else to do.._

                **End Chapter**


	14. At the well

**Chapter Fourteen: At the well**

                Squall slipped through the sleeping city. His pale skin made him glow under the moonlight; he was like a ghost drifting through the streets--a lost soul amidst those who felt most at home in their small stone houses. His eyes were empty and dead, breaths invisible and cold. Squall felt like dying, so his appearance was fitting; making him halfway to the grave.

                Why did he have to do this? Did he really _have_ to break his promise to his beloved sister—the singular person he cared about the most? Why did it have to be _her_ promise that he broke?

                _Because I have to, in order to –protect- them. All of them.._

                Squall frowned at the burdening thought and continued to weave down the streets in silence. He could see the well up ahead. It was built low to the ground; or perhaps the stone had sat higher at one point in time, but years of use had torn away the rock. It rose to just the right height for Squall to lean against using his hands.

                He almost smiled bitterly at the sight but paused when his eyes saw that a cloaked figure was standing by the well. The stranger's back was towards Squall, giving no chance to glimpse their face.

                _It's just a weary traveler hoping to get a drink. Nothing more._

                Somehow those words did not provide comfort. Squall stood next to the wall of a building and just stared at the well. He had hoped to be alone tonight. Now that someone was here to play witness, Squall felt extremely childish and dumb.

                _I came all this way, no point in backing down now.._

                Squall squared his shoulders and strolled out into the open. He just hoped this stranger wasn't a bandit. Just a few feet farther now. Squall lifted a fisted hand to his chest; inside the metal of his necklace dug into his skin. The pendant gave him a sense of courage and so he pressed forward.

                _Goodbye.. Griever._

                Squall stretched his hand out over the well. Fingers hesitated to release. The stranger finally noticed Squall's presence and flung around. Whoever this man was he must have been just as worried about running into someone as Squall was because he backed off a few steps before stopping.

                Blue eyes glimpsed a chin stubbled with a week's growth of an unshaven face; but that was all that was noticeable. The large hood of the man's cloak was pulled over his head, casting shadows over his face. Even though Squall could not see the man's eyes. He could tell the other was staring at him. It made him uneasy to be watched. Squall slowly pulled back his arm that still held tight to the silver necklace.

                Turning, Squall could feel his courage fading as the hairs on his arms and neck rose. He walked away from the stranger. Sounds of footsteps in sand caught the brunet's attention. Squall pivoted to see the man had begun to follow him.

                Narrowing his eyes in silent threat, Squall backed off a step while squeezing Griever in his right hand. His arm began to tingle as he drew energy from the mysterious object. Squall was going to make sure this man regretted ever trying to bother him. There was always that flipside of being magically endowed; you could knock someone off his or her feet without even lifting a finger.

                "Squall.."

                The voice broke his concentration and the energy dissipated. Squall's fingers slacked on the lion cross. His stern glare turned into that of bewilderment. The voice was familiar, and so were the light jade eyes that stared earnestly at him.

                _Seifer.._

                It was the missing prince. Here. Now. At this late hour and secluded place. What kind of madness was fate suffering from to put Squall in this awkward situation? And just where had Seifer gotten that cloak? Where had he been?

                _Why should I care?_

                Squall turned and began to walk away. He told himself that the prince was lucky that he didn't have some sort of weapon at hand, because anger quickly took over his initial shock. The brunet remembered quite well that Seifer had used him. Cut him, hurt him, just to make Rinoa angry. Squall was a slave, but he was not a person to be used like _that_.

                "Squall, wait!" Seifer's voice came out strongly and to the brunet's surprise the blonde did not try to grab his arm to make him stop. The words were different—not commanding like they had been in the past.

                Was it the slightest show of respect?

                Squall slowed and eyed the cloaked figure. It had been a while since anyone had show respect towards him. Seifer was the last person the brunet expected it from. A moment passed where the pair just eyed one another, waiting for the other to speak. Finally the blonde shattered the silence—stumbling over his words in an uncharacteristic manner.

                "I want to talk to you," Seifer tested the ground between them to see if it would shatter. He watched Squall's face keenly, waiting for a sign to continue.

                Squall arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms. He couldn't possibly pass up what the prince had to say. Seifer had been in the desert for the good part of the week; what could he possibly have to say to him after all this time?

                "I've done a lot of thinking while I was gone," Seifer picked up on the gesture to continue. He glanced to the side in a gesture that Squall read to be nervousness.

                _And..?_

                As if hearing the mental question, Seifer's jade eyes snapped back to the curious gray. "I came to a few conclusions about my life. First, I realize I'm not the sun and the stars—Wait, Squall!"

                The brunet had tried to walk off for a third time. He was no longer interested in hearing the blonde's revelation. There was no way in the deepest pits of hell where Squall was going to listen to Seifer gloat about himself, thinking he had reached some new level of self-understanding. If the man wanted someone to humble himself to, then Seifer should have gone to one of the gods' temples; _not_ to Squall.

                "Wait! Listen, I'm sorry," Seifer was still standing near the well, showing no signs that he would give chase. "Please.."

                The apology made Squall freeze in place. The words Seifer spoke sounded unreal. The brunet was sure the word 'please' was not in the prince's vocabulary. It pulled at Squall's curiosity so much that he found himself slowly turning. "What?"

                "Please?" Seifer repeated his last words in similar question.

                "No," Squall let his head shake side to side. "You're sorry..?"

                Seifer's lips twitched. He probably didn't want to repeat himself. An apology from a prince was quite the rarity. So it seemed there was still a sense of stubborn pride within the man. "Yes. I am.."

                Squall narrowed his eyes in suspicion, "What for?"

                The prince grumbled under his breath while shifting his weight. "For everything? Geez.."

                Not satisfied, Squall fixed the blonde with a venomous glare. Instantly Seifer returned the harsh look. "Do you accept my apology?"

                "No," Squall quickly retorted.

                This refusal seemed to shred the last of the blonde's patience. "Why the hell not?"

                "You didn't apologize for anything," Squall eagerly answered. There was something about seeing Seifer frustrated that amused the brunet to no end. "You don't even know why you are sorry. People like you don't know what guilt and regret are. Saying you're sorry isn't going to magically make it go away."

                "And people like you don't know how to accept apologies. Get over it!" Seifer's voice was rising, as was his temper.

                Get over it? How could Squall just forget about what Seifer had done? The man didn't have to remember every time he caught his reflection in the water. He didn't have to put up with all the people making fun of him. He didn't have to listen to his only friends talk about him like he wasn't around.

                "Whatever," Squall shook his head in disbelief then turned his back. This time Seifer pursued—fueled by his hot anger.

                "Damn you—Listen to me," The blonde roared as he gained on the brunet. "I'm not finished with you yet. Stop walking away when I'm talking to you."

                Ah, there was the demanding tone of voice that Squall had come to expect from Seifer; so much for being civil and polite. A ghost of a smirk passed over Squall's lips. He felt strong fingers grip his arm. Suddenly he was pulled around and was staring up at the burning Jade. Squall sucked in a terse breath, the intake sounding more like a pained hiss.

                The fire in Seifer's eyes died down to a faint flicker, but Squall could still see it dancing in the depths of the man's jade orbs. It would only take a slight stir of wind, or a piece of kindling to make it burn lividly once more. Seifer pulled back slightly as he remembered what he was going to say. "I always thought Rinoa had wrapped some spell around you. You always looked perfect."

                _What the hell is he talking about?_

                Squall's eyes narrowed at the strange comment. If it were not for the hand holding his arm, Squall would have distanced himself from the temperamental prince at once. He did not like the where the conversation was heading.

                "I found out that it wasn't Rinoa's magic that made you desirable—"

                _Oh hell.._

                Squall stared dumbfounded as Seifer continued, "—I guess there really is something about you that I like, and its not some trick. I really do want—"

                "What?" Squall cut off the other. Gods, why was the world making him suffer? Seifer _liked_ him. In what way? What kind of game was this?

                Seifer let out a frustrated sigh, but it sounded closer to a growl. The prince seemed to be searching for the right words. "You're.. beautiful Squall."

                Apparently, these were not the right ones.

                Squall snapped out of his shock and jerked his arm from the blonde's grasp. He sneered at the man with distaste. "I am _not_ one of your whores."

                He remembered being led into that room in the palace. Girls of all kinds had been draping themselves over Seifer. All of them cooing compliments, smiling at him, running their hands over his well toned body..

                "That's not.." Seifer looked at a loss from Squall's outburst. His eyes suddenly began to burn angrily once more. "Why did I even bother? I knew you wouldn't listen."

                Squall mentally noted that he had made a bad choice. He could see the self-control beginning to break behind Seifer's jade eyes. Squall could only glare at the beast that was threatening to awaken.

                "Why?" Squall chose not to back down, and finally ask the question that had haunted him for days.

                Why did Seifer let him come to the palace? Why did Seifer want to scar him? Why did Seifer save him? Why did he run away? Why was Seifer saying this nonsense? Why did he think he was beautiful? Why was Squall so stunned? Why the prince? Why him? Why? Why?

                Squall finally tore himself away from the other's mixed gaze when no ready answer came. The man was angry, there was no doubt about that. But there was something else lingering behind the fire, something that resembled pain—the anger was just a protective mask.

                Squall winced as he felt Seifer reached forward and grabbed his arm once more. Whatever respect Seifer had been showing before, it was gone now, and they were back into the roles of prince and slave. It had all been fake before.

                Seifer's hand left Squall's arm and fingered the back of the brunet's gray tunic, "You were in the palace again. I guess Rinoa is alive and well.."

                _What is that suppose to mean?_

                Squall remained rooted to his spot. He knew the prince wouldn't let him go without becoming angry. As long as he didn't move, resist, or argue, the blonde would be docile—but there was only a slim chance of that happening.

                Suddenly Squall remembered the black wood box sitting in Rinoa's room with an ominous cold air circling it. Whatever that was, the gift was not going to please the prince. Squall only wished he could be there to see what Rinoa wanted to give Seifer. Then there was the incident that had happened to Fujin—Seifer's servant; that ought to be enough to deal a devastating blow to the blonde. Squall almost pitied him. Almost.

                "Do you.. want to come back to the palace.. with me?" Seifer mumbled; an uncertainty was in his voice. It contrasted sharply with the rage he had been ready to unleash seconds before.

                Squall felt the faintest touch of Seifer's fingers at his waist with the question. His breath hitched in his throat. The brunet didn't know whether to be disgusted, or flattered that the prince of Zamir was fawning over him—out of all people, the blonde had picked him.

                ..but this was probably another ploy just to get under Rinoa's skin. Squall felt something whither inside of him. He swiped his arm down, skillfully knocking away Sefier's hand. "Never."

                Seifer's fingers curled into a fist. Surprisingly the blonde didn't retort. He merely glared from under the hood of the cloak. Instead it was Squall that spoke—angry and voice rising in volume. "Don't touch me."

                The blonde bit down on his lip, but it was like placing a single sandbag to stop a flood. "Why do you do that?"

                _Just let me leave.._

                "Just who are you?" Seifer narrowed his eyes at the back of Squall's head. "Why won't you tell me?"

                Squall could tell Seifer was trying to be sincere. His questions were not biting or mocking. Though, Squall could care less. To the depths of hell with this man and his absurd desires.

                "That's none of your business," Squall growled.

                Seifer went silent again. His eyes grew cold, yet burned dangerously at the same time. He stared at the brunet like he was searching for a hidden answer. Squall froze as the prince took a step closer. The brunet held his ground and returned the icy glare.

                The prince held Squall's gaze, prying for a secret. Squall suddenly felt uneasy and tightened his hand on the silver necklace and shifted his arm behind his back. Seifer picked up on the action as if he had been the one to provoke it. He went to snatch Squall's hand. The brunet felt a moment of panic. He lifted his other arm and brought his fist across Seifer's face—not hard, but enough to make the prince step back.

                "Always hiding something, aren't you," Seifer calmly spoke while lightly touching his reddening cheek. His eyes were nearly glowing with a mixture of emotions. It confused Squall, he didn't know if the prince was going to attack, or keep talking.

                At all costs, Squall couldn't let Seifer see the pendant of Griever. Any noble figure would recognize the silver lion—if Seifer found out, that could only mean execution for Squall. Anything remotely resembling Griever was absolutely forbidden. And despite his bleak existence, Squall did not want to die.

                "Well, there really is no one here to stop us this time," The taunting smirk appeared on Seifer's lips, causing Squall to tense in anticipation of a fight. The blonde glanced down at the hand fisted around the necklace, "I might as well stop expecting you to answer me. I think I shall just pry the answer from your fingers."

                "It will have to be from my cold, dead fingers," Squall easily picked up on Seifer's challenge and smoothly laid down his own. It was so natural and comfortable that it scared Squall.

                Seifer was smiling at him wit the same kind of ease. Squall kept a cold expression, internally wishing that they would be facing each other with steel in their hands—Swordplay had more feeling, expression, and a sharp edge to sweeten the fight.

                But when it was Seifer's broad shoulders, toned muscles and advantage of height over Squall's lean, lithe frame that was half-starved from the unhealthy lifestyle of a slave—Squall was at a disadvantage. It was simply stubborn pride that made Squall turn to fully face Seifer.

                "I'd rather have you alive when I pin you to the ground," Seifer flashed a feral grin at his opponent.

                Squall narrowed his eyes at the impish twinkle in the other's jade eyes. If he didn't know better, Squall would think that the blonde was being suggestively flirting. However, he didn't have time to think over the words because Seifer had lunged, making a grab for Squall's hand.

                The prince wanted to see the necklace; Squall new this and lifted his arm out of reach. He spun aside so Seifer passed by—like a matador taunting the bull with the red flag. Squall wondered how he was going to win this dance. He had one disadvantage when compared to a matador; Squall could not kill the bull at the end.

                Squall extended his leg to catch Seifer's passing feet. The prince went down—but it looked to be on purpose. Squall soon found out why when hands grabbed his outstretched leg and jerked him down as well.

                Unprepared, Squall went face first into the hard packed earth. The air was knocked out of his lungs. He drew in rasps of cold air. Seifer was quick to act. The blonde was already up and standing over his foe. He waited for the brunet to stand, then frowned disappointedly when Squall remained on the ground.

                Squall coughed from the ache in his heaving lungs. He began to push himself up but a heavy pressure on his back made him meet the ground a second time. He turned his head to see Seifer over him—a knee resting on Squall's back to keep him pinned. The prince looked unhappy at what appeared to be a victory.

                Seifer leaned forward, applying more weight to his knee that rested on Squall's spine. The action caused a dull pain to throb down Squall's back. Seifer brought his own face up close to Squall's while laying his hands on Squall's shoulders.

                Squall could only glare to the best of his ability and grit his teeth with a growl. He was defeated so quickly that it disgusted him. Seifer had overpowered him too easily. Squall fisted his fingers into the dirt. He was not a wrestler, not a grappler! He spoke with steel—he shouldn't have taken the challenge.

                _I'm so stupid! Argh.._

                Squall shut his eyes tightly. When he opened them again he noticed Seifer's gaze had focused elsewhere. There was no fight left in his green eyes, just annoyance.

                "You there! What's going on?"

                Squall ceased his angry growling and picked up his head far enough to look towards the new voice. The darkness made it difficult to see anything over a few feet away. The stranger moved closer with a spear leveled at them.

                _Oh great, night watch finally arrives.._

                It was only a matter of time before the duo's loud voices and rough housing caught the attention of the guards that scouted the city at night.

                Seifer slowly stood to his feet, allowing Squall to quickly regain his composure and stand up as well. Dirt clung to the front o his garments, but Squall didn't bother brushing it away. He glanced at Seifer—the prince looked like a suspicious character; a man wearing a cloak with the hood pulled over his head. The guards found him assaulting another in the middle of the night. Maybe Squall could get away from whatever punishment this guard had in mind.

                _Idiot. He's the prince, he doesn't get into trouble._

                "Hey!" The guard cried out, yelling over his shoulder. His voice was deep and seemed to echo off the buildings. It was enough to wake the whole west side of Zamir. "We got a couple of thieves here!"

_                A couple? Wait.._

                Squall stared disbelieving as two more guards came to join the first. Three sharp metal points were aimed menacingly at the pair. Squall would never understand the daftness most guards seemed to possess. Didn't they recognize the prince? And why wasn't Seifer doing anything to stop them!?

                Blue-gray storms glanced over at the said prince. The blonde had the nerve to grin amusedly at the situation. Squall felt his rage boil. He was lashing out before he could regain his impassive nature. Squall's fist connected with Seifer's jaw. "Jerk."

                The commotion started at once. The prince threw himself at Squall just as the guards jumped to separate the brawl. Seifer didn't put up a fight towards the guards. He just smiled as one man took his arm in restraint. Squall, however, was struggling—fueled by his anger. Two guards were trying to seize his arms but the brunet was lashing out, jerking away from their touch. Finally one of the guards landed a heavy punch in Squall's gut, making the brunet still then sink to his knees.

                The grin vanished from Seifer's face. He pulled away from the guard on him. Seifer grabbed one of the two men around Squall, "Don't hurt him!"

                Squall managed to look up as the blonde attacked the guard. The two men struggled for a moment before a second guard decided to intervene by striking the prince with an upper cut. Seifer's head flew back, causing the hood to fall off. One of the guards instantly froze, and then dropped to his knees with his forehead nearly brushing the ground in a bow.

                "P-prince Almasy!"

                The other two looked at Seifer in question. Not all men were familiar with what the prince looked like. They all knew who the pharaoh was, but to recognize the prince on sight was not one of their concerns. Despite their lack of knowledge, the two bowed down as well. One seized Squall's arm and jerked the brunet to the ground to force him to into a messy bow.

                Seifer recovered from the blow and surveyed the four figures that were on their knees and faces turned down—except for one. Squall had craned his neck upward to sneer. Squall hated this. He did not want to bow to _him_. Just because Seifer was the pharaoh's son, he could get away with everything. It wasn't fair. Squall was going to get punished for the prince attacking him.

                The blonde glowered over them. His lip was bleeding, sending a small trickle to run off his chin. A hand came up to wipe away the liquid, leaving a reddish smear in its wake. "Let him go."

                The hand restraining Squall's arm was pulled away. The brunet rose to his feet, but wobbled at the pain in his abdomen. Seifer stepped forward with arms out to steady him, but Squall backed away. He turned and headed down the dark street. At first it was just a staggering walk, then he felt his pain tolerance kick in and began to jog. For some reason he knew Seifer wasn't going to follow him.

                Stupid Seifer. Why did he have to come back? Gods, it felt so strange to have someone like him. No, it wasn't that. Because plenty of people had liked Squall; Rinoa was one of them. It was different because it was another guy—and it had never been someone like the handsome prince. And never had Squall felt the flight of his heart when he thought about it. It did that, when Seifer had said he was beautiful. Squall just felt the tiniest bit of fondness towards the prince and it was very bizarre.

                But the man was so stubborn, prideful, neurotic, rough and vulgar. No self-respecting individual could like such a man. It was impossible. Who cared if his hair the was the color of the golden sun at the evening, skin lightly tanned to resemble the desert sand, eyes that sharply expressed emotions with different shades of green, a sense of pride that could make the man stand face to face with death and smile, a body that any woman would yearn for, or any man..

                …

                _Dear gods, I have been cursed.._

                Squall let out an exasperated sigh making a sharp pain stab at him with the action. He continued to flee, back to his bed where he could curl up and disappear, play invisible to the rest of the world. As he moved through the familiar streets, he didn't notice that his hands were empty.

**End Chapter.**

**_______________________________________________________**

**Author's Note: **_Heh, seems I have lost reviewers. Ah well. I've been kicking out chapters slower now because Ragnarok has been stealing away my time. Anyway, Rar, I hope you guys like my story so far. In the last chapter I really wanted to portray Selphie as a cute caring person, because she is, even though she's really annoying in the game. I like her in my story, along with my evil Rinoa. Mwahah, Villains rule! I know chocobos are more of FFVII's things (Black, gold, etc) but I didn't think it'd hurt to add them._

**Insane Keyblader: **_Heey! Someone is paying attention. Since Squall got his scar, Fujin will now have her eye patch. We shall wonder what is in store for a desert prince :3_


	15. Home Sweet Home

**Chapter Fifteen: Home Sweet Home**

                _What is it?_

                Jade eyes watched how the sun reflected off the silver pendant that dangled freely from a thin chain. The object spun in small fast circles, pausing only when the chain twisted too tightly around itself only to send the silver spinning in the opposite direction. The sunlight glinted off the recently polished silver and danced over the lightly tanned, handsome face that stared in a state of curiosity.

                _It has to mean something._

                Seifer sat on the sill of his room window. He had been there for at least an hour. The silver necklace before him held all his attention. The jewelry felt important; there was something that made Seifer not want to let it go. A mysterious energy emitted from the cross; it captured the blonde's mind and pulled him into a timeless daze.

                It came into his possession the previous night. Seifer remembered all too well that he had been fighting with Squall. The brunet made him angry, but it was more of a hollow rage that pained him. Seifer had tried to explain his feelings to Squall, but he couldn't find the right words to clarify because he was confused about the new emotions in the first place. It just was not possible to make someone understand something that he himself could no comprehend, so it had turned into an awkward argument.

                The week before the encounter, Seifer had just wandered the desert for the first two days. During that time his mind continued to play out the scene of the quarry guard lying at the bottom of the gorge in a pool of his own dark blood. Seifer eventually took refuge in a nearby town. He went so far as to trade off one of his gold amulets to get a heavy cloak that he could wear to hide himself from being recognized.

                As the days stretched on, Seifer's thoughts had faded away from the guard's death. Instead they dwelled on the sound of Squall's voice when the other had spoken his name; the soft low tone laced with genuine concern. The brunet was the only happiness Seifer had to hold onto while beyond the walls of Zamir. Soon his thoughts not only heard Squall's voice, it saw his porcelain skin, his dark brown locks of hair that fell haphazardly over his mesmerizing orbs of blue and gray.

                Seifer had thought of Squall so much during his self-exile that he could even feel the touch of the other's warm, smooth skin. One day it had just become too much to bear and Seifer had accepted his indescribable feelings for Squall. The same day the prince decided he had to see the brunet again.

                Things had not gone well upon his return. Even though the gods were on Seifer's side by bringing Squall to him; it seemed they had only done that to make a fool of the prince. Seifer couldn't find one right thing to say to Squall. In the end, Seifer had lost his temper at being rejected by the object of his affection. It was like the man was not even willing to give Seifer a chance—that had hurt the most; more than the punches Squall had thrown.

                The prince wasn't use to the feeling of having his feelings hurt, so he had turned to an emotion he knew all to well: Anger. His easily provoked temper had caused them to fight beyond what sparring with words could do. Seifer had effortlessly knocked the lightweight to the ground—sending a metallic object to fly out of Squall's grip. It had skittered across the ground then laid out in the open—practically glowing with power under the moonlight. Seifer wanted to snatch the object up at once, but his attention had shifted back to Squall when he heard the brunet's respiratory distress.

                _I didn't mean to hurt him. I never wanted to hurt him._

                Seifer curled his hand around the jagged cross as he remembered it all for the twentieth time that morning. He tightly closed his eyes to try and block out the memory. It was no use. The scenes played out in his mind as vividly as before. Seifer even visibly winced when he recalled the guard punching Squall in the stomach.

                _It was my fault. No wonder Squall won't give me a chance. I just end up hurting him in the end._

                Sighing heavily, Seifer eyes lifted open to spy at the silver visible between his fingers. A fleeting sense of hope rose in his heart at the mere sight of the necklace. Perhaps if he knew more about Squall, then he could avoid doing things that would hurt the brunet. Just maybe that would work; and that road of understanding would start with the mysterious pendant in his hand.

                Seifer moved his fingers to examine the beast that was engraved in the metal. It was unfamiliar, but the animalistic appearance made Seifer believe it was associated with a god. Which one was the question. The prince did not know all the gods well; he only truly got to know Bahamut.

                _There is one way to find out._

                Seifer smiled to himself and stood from the windowsill, wincing slightly as he shifted his weight to balance more on his good leg. There was a nice scar above his right knee from where the quarry guard had landed a blow with his sword. It still hurt, but it was nothing that Seifer couldn't ignore.

Leaving the room, he headed for the main hallway of the palace. It was there on the walls that the stories of all the gods were on display for every man and woman to read. There had to be something there that would help Seifer understand, to know a little more about Squall.

                As the prince stroll into the hall, the early morning light that was flooding in through the tall entrance blinded him. The front of the palace had been built to face the rising sun so that every day the pharaoh would be reminded of the world Bahamut had created. The prince didn't care much about the dragon god and muttered a silent curse as he raised an arm to cover his eyes.

                He took refuge in the shadow of a vast pillar. Seifer looked upon the great wall that was covered top to bottom with the ancient history of the world. His eyes roamed over the stories he loved to hear as a child. In fact, he could almost hear the voice of the woman who had told him the stories. A kind woman that he remembered calling "Matron"—the lady who had raised him because his parents did not have the time. She had been eager to tell him the stories again and again

                Seifer smiled nostalgically at the thoughts. He shook his mind free and stared at the hieroglyphs portrayed around the image of a stone castle. It was called Alexander as Seifer recalled. He use to think it was absurd that a god would take the form of a building until his matron had explained that Alexander had indeed been a man. He was a brave guard of the northern kingdoms. Alexander had been one of the elite guards that were responsible for protecting the nobility. He had fallen in love with the queen that dwelled in the stone castle in the heart of the city of Lamin. Unfortunately, society forbid his love and so Alexander had devoted his life to protecting the queen instead.

                One day, strangers from across the seas landed on the northern shores and attacked Lamin. The people fell easily as they were unprepared for war. The invaders set the town on fire as they ravaged the city streets. The castle was the only place that remained untouched, no matter how many times the foreigners tried to tear down the stonewalls. It was said that at every entryway the men ran into a single guard—a man whose armor and sword shone like the sun. They said he fought with the strength of twenty men and with the speed greater than any feline.

                The story went on to say that the guard Alexander was the one to single-handedly fight off every man that came. He killed them mercilessly, yet never let a drop of blood touch him—letting him remain pure and holy. Although he was holding off the enemy well, the number of attackers was many and slowly they pushed into the castle. The king was slain, the servants, the children—all that remained was the queen and her devoted guard. The final fight was in her very room where Alexander stood between her and the last man. The stranger made to impale the queen, but Alexander had stepped into harm's way—taking the man's sword through the chest. With his dying strength, Alexander had sheathed his own sword in the other man's neck.

                The queen cried over her fallen guard who now was soaked in his own blood, and then her tears of regret. The gods that had been watching had seen Alexander's sacrifice made out of pure love. They did not revive his body, instead they put his soul into the stonewalls of the castle, so he could continue protecting what he loved. It was said that the castle still remains standing, never crumpling throughout time. They also said that any enemy that dared to step through the castle's arches would fall dead.

                Alexander had been a man, but as a god he is seen as a castle that stood against evil.

                Seifer moved away from the wall. Alexander was a lesser god that received praise from soldiers and guards that asked for courage and strength against the enemy. The priests also prayed to Alexander, asking for him to provide protection to the palace, to never to let it be over taken by evil.

                Jade eyes glanced down at the silver necklace. This was not Alexander. The beast on the pendant looked more like Cerberus, both images were roaring with defiance. Although, the creature engraved in silver was more like a feline with its sleek, fine lines that outlined its body. Seifer didn't know any gods that were portrayed as felines; perhaps he could ask someone. But who could he trust to not tell everyone that the necklace belonged to Squall?

                A named was on the tip of his tongue before Seifer could finish asking the question. He turned away from the hall and headed into the more inner chambers of the palace. His walk went unaccompanied for a few turns until a female servant came into sight. Seifer stopped the girl with a small upraising of his hand. The girl bowed, turning her eyes to the floor in respect. "Do you need something, Prince Almasy?"

                "Yes. I need you to find Fujin for me and have her sent to my room," Seifer ordered. The crimson-eyed woman would help him and keep his affairs private. In truth he couldn't wait to see his good friend and learn about what had gone on during his absence.

                Regrettably, the girl shook her head and bowed further to the floor, "I'm sorry, my prince, but your servant Fujin no longer works in the palace."

                "What?" Seifer stared disbelieving at the top of the girl's head.

                The servant glanced uncertainly at the prince to see if he was angry. It was a brief look of fear before she bowed her head once again. "It is as I say. I'm sorry if this news angers you, my prince."

                Seifer mentally grimaced, "Where is she?"

                "I do not know. It was none of my business," the girl humbly stated.

                _Fujin would have made something like that her business_, Seifer bitterly thought while frowning at the girl before him. He waved her away just as another servant rounded the corner.

                "Prince Seifer."

                Raising his gaze to the new female, Seifer narrowed his eyes at the sight. He should have known what he would find. The woman's voice had been drained of respect, and the title 'prince' had sounded forced. It was one of Rinoa's servants; a woman with dark braided hair that was pulled back in a bun. A tiara of gold leaves encircled her head to signify that she was from Aldazir.

                Seifer graced her presence with a sneer, "What is it?"

                "Miss Rinoa requests your company," the woman responded with an expression carved out of ice.

                "Does she," Seifer's words dripped with sarcasms as a smirk took the place of the previous sneer. "She must be overjoyed that I have made it home safely and wishes to hear of my travels none the less. I must say that I would love nothing more than to spend good quality time with my dear cousin, but I must decline. I am still tired from my journey and wish nothing more than to feel the soft touch of my bed sheets to my skin, or to enjoy the company that only a lovely lady such as yourself could provide."

                The suggestive reply caught the servant off guard. She stared thoughtfully at the prince before remembering her place. Her eyes narrowed in a scowl that remarkably resembled that of the sorceress. "Miss Rinoa _insists_ that you meet with her at once. She has a gift for you."

                Seifer just smiled at the girl. His green eyes held her darker eyes with a playful expression. He wasn't being serious about his evocative comments. Though, it would hurt to bed the wench just to see the look on Rinoa's face when she found out; maybe some other day. Right now Seifer was intrigued at the girl's talk of a gift. "I believe this is the first time Rinoa has come back bearing gifts. I must see this with my own eyes."

                The servant nodded, and then bowed—which was only a slight incline of her head. She was disrespectful and defiant towards Seifer. He liked to deal with that type but lately it just hasn't been fun anymore. Every time he riled up a servant enough to get a glare, it only reminded him of Squall's stormy gray eyes that were as cold as ice.

                It made him miss Squall.

                Rinoa's servant began to walk past Seifer. The prince reached out and brushed his fingers over her arm. The woman stopped to examine his deceiving smile. "Is there something you wish for me to tell Miss Rinoa?"

                _To rot in hell, along with many of the other usual curses._

                Seifer briefly scanned the hallway and decided against his sarcastic remark, "Where is Fujin?"

                A second of hesitation passed before the woman adverted her gaze and responded, "I do not know."

                Seifer slid his fingers under her chin and slowly turned her dark eyes to meet back with his. "I am not the one you serve, but you should still not lie to me. My temper is much shorter and a lot more violent than your master's."

                A flicker of fear danced in the woman's eyes before she could turn her eyes away. Seifer pulled his hand away, making sure to softly caress his fingers down her jaw line. He was toying with the servant on purpose. The prince wanted to remind himself that _nobody_ refused him. But as he broke down others, again it only went to remind Seifer of how unique and mysterious Squall was in comparison.

                "I am forbidden to tell you," The woman responded in a state of discomfort. All the defiance from before had vanished, leaving a young servant who stood nervously as if fearing her death.

                "I understand. However, if you do not tell me I shall show you the courtesy of the dungeon guards. I can promise you that they would not be gentle like I would," Seifer smiled with yet another threat hanging in the air. His words were mixed with promising death and sexual innuendo that threw the poor girl into chaos.

                "Please, I wish not to cause trouble.." the girl mumbled while wrapping her arms around herself.

                Seifer picked up on the weakness and moved in to finish off his prey. He stood beside her so closely that his chest nearly brushed her shoulder. Seifer touched her back and the contact was enough to bring the servant turning and coming easily into his awaiting arms. If she was crying, Seifer did not care. He enjoyed the power he had over other people. The girl meant nothing to him, yet he was able to pull at her strings to make her surrender into the arms of her death, yet her only safety at the same time.

                "Tell me. I will not let her know," Seifer softly cooed at the woman who was nestled against his chest.

                "My master, she sent your Fujin away because of her disobedience," the reply came flooding out in relief.

                _Disobedience towards Rinoa.. I shall have to reward Fujin for that._

                Now that Seifer had the desired information, he was done with their little skit. He detached the woman from his chest and began to walk away. The servant stared disbelieving at his retreating back. Seifer left before she could mutter a curse about being tricked. He was going to keep true enough to his word by not telling Rinoa that he knew the reason behind Fujin's absence. The sorceress would _love_ to share that information herself.

                The whole reason behind manipulating the woman was to prove to himself that even the unlikely people could not turn him down. Rinoa's servants were trained to hate his guts, yet the woman had given in so easily. There was no challenge in it. Squall was the only one that had refused him repeatedly. The brunet _would_ break. Squall would become one of Seifer's greatest triumphs.

                The prince's conscious chimed in that Squall was a living person, not a trophy; that Seifer shouldn't treat Squall like an object if he wished to have the brunet return his feelings.

                _That is never going to happen though._

                Seifer tuned out his conscious. Last night had made it clear to the prince that Squall wanted nothing to do with him. The man wouldn't even accept his apology!

                Yet..

                Seifer glanced at the silver cross in his hand. There was that fleeting sense of hope that Squall would understand. It was just so confusing. Seifer had accepted his feelings towards Squall—but somewhere along the way Seifer got himself mixed up. He didn't know if he truly liked Squall or just felt the need to obtain dominance over the other.

                No one turned away from Seifer. No one.

                The prince came to an abrupt halt before the silk curtained entrance of Rinoa's room. During his internal musing he had walked there without realizing it. Habitually Seifer glanced down the hall to where a tall guard should have been standing. Instead the prince saw a vacant wall that was missing Raijin's silhouette. It was a bit nerving to see the man absent. Seifer had personally assigned Raijin to that post so he could keep watch over Rinoa.

                Had the man not returned from the desert yet? Or maybe Rinoa had kicked the guard out like she had done to Fujin. It seemed the witch had been busy during his absence.

                Before entering, Seifer hid the silver pendant in a pocket sewn on the inside of his tunic shirt. He didn't want to risk letting the sorceress get her devious hands on the necklace. Pushing through the drapes, Seifer strolled as smoothly into the room as he injured leg would allow. There was a cold chill in the air that he couldn't quite place. He quickly spotted Rinoa lounging on her couch. She hadn't bothered to acknowledge his presence. Seifer smirked as he felt the arising need to throw the first insult.

                "It's so nice to see you alive and well after your trip. How is your father?" Seifer cocked his head to the side with the arrogant smirk upon his lips.

                Rinoa slowly glanced over her shoulder at Seifer, but gave him a brief gaze before returning here eyes to the parchment in her hands. "I honestly don't know. I didn't make it to Aldazir. My party was attacked by a group of bandits during the first night."

                "How awful. I hope everyone is all right, any casualties?" Seifer asked with a little too much eagerness in his voice.

                "Not of my party," Rinoa set the parchment down on the table while swinging her legs off the couch. She pressed a smile onto her lips and tilted her head at the prince.

                Seifer easily picked up on the meaning. They both knew what had happened out in the desert that night. It was no secret, yet they continued to play this game with one another. It was like they were incapable of saying the truth to each other. It had always been like that. Some things would never change.

                "Everyone of you is safe. Anything stolen?" Seifer mused while walked up to the couch. He tipped his head forward to try and read the parchment, but Rinoa quickly folded it away.

                "They almost got away with my gift for you," Rinoa smiled and stood up from the couch. She planted herself in front of the prince and tilted her head up to him, sending waves of coal black hair over her shoulder.

                "I was told about this gift, what is the occasion?" Seifer's voiced slipped and echoed his suspicion of the sorceress. She was being too kind, and her smiles were misleading.

                Rinoa stepped aside and headed for the far side of her room. She gestured for Seifer to follow before folding her arms behind her back. "I know we haven't been too good to one another, so I wanted to make things right. I brought back a.. peace offering."

                Seifer narrowed his eyes, but continued to follow the woman. She finally stopped, then moved aside to reveal a table with a box sitting on top. Seifer dared no approached. Instead he examined the eerie black exterior with strange marks scratched into the wood. "A gift, for me? I cannot accept such a thoughtful present when I have nothing to give in return."

                The prince tried to look aside, but the haunting aura the box had pulled his attention back. In the back of his mind, Seifer could hear the sound of a raven quorking. Death. That is what the box reminded him off. The sleek black feathers of the messenger of death. He didn't want to open it.

                "I insist," Rinoa touched the box with one of her hands and leveled a smile on the blonde.

                _That's funny. Your servant said the same thing._

                Seifer swallowed down his nervousness. He glanced a few times between the woman and her box of death. 'Not of my party' the sorceress had stated with a mysterious flicker in her dark eyes. Raijin was missing from his post, and he was one of the so-called 'bandits'—there was a connection there; he knew and felt it.

                "I cannot refuse a lady," Seifer mocked with one last look to the woman; hoping to find some forewarning to what he would find inside. He stepped up and tentatively touched the lid. Instantly his arm rose with goose bumps from the ice-cold contact.

                _I don't fear your magic._

                Seifer narrowed his eyes and seized the lid with both hands. The lid slid off with a single pull. A cloud of frost was exhaled from the box. It coated over Seifer, frostbiting his skin so he sparkled crystalline. A thin layer of ice coated over Seifer's skin—like the fire of the evening desert being transformed into the moonlit sands of the night. Suddenly it all shattered into dozen of tiny shards and dissipated into the air leaving only a cold chill to run up the prince's spine. Seifer stared horrified; but not at the sensation of being half-frozen, but what he could see lurking within the box.

                Rinoa had a look of horror etched on her features at well. She backed away from Seifer while shaking her head with eyes dark with confusion.

                Seifer leaned forward. Now that the ice spell had been broken, a foul stench poor from the box. It reeked of aged blood and rotting flesh that caused Seifer's stomach to curl in on itself. He glanced sparingly at the matted black hair that appeared to be animal fur. Slowly he reached out his hand while the back of his mind replayed the sound of the raven crying outside his bedroom window. What had he amused him at that time? 'Cerberus will take away someone close to him'?

                _That's just superstition._

                His fingers touched the black hair; it was rough, coarse and stiff under his fingers. Seifer pushed away the hair to glimpse at a patch of dark colored flesh. Immediately he jerked back and snapped his eyes to the sorceress. "You didn't."

                Rinoa seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. Her head lifted to the prince. Dark brown eyes shifted to the box. Remembrance flashed over her face, "What makes you think I haven't?"

                "Witch.." The name was the ghost of a whispered curse that ran through Seifer's mind. How could she kill.. No, she couldn't have done something that extreme. Of course Seifer had sent knives during the night to slay the sorceress, but he always knew that they would never succeed. How dare she present him with this 'gift'.

                "I'm not the one repelling ice spells," Rinoa narrowed her eyes.

                Seifer saw her confusion, which in turn made him confused. What in the name of Bahamut was she talking about? There was a head of a man in that box! Yet she was talking about magic? Why was this turning onto him? She was the one that had brought part of a dead man back from the desert!

                Seifer head swan with the chaos and the churning odor of decaying flesh. Rinoa seemed immune to the rotten stench and continued to stare at the prince as if _he_ was the one who had brought the box into the room. "What did you do out in the desert?"

                "You've gone crazy Rinoa," Seifer stated in comment towards her irrelevant question. He backed away from her wild glare. It was a known fact that channelers of the gods' powers eventually lost their minds. They never mentioned who one would not want to be in the warpath of a crazed sorceress; that was just common sense.

                "Did you pick up anything while you were in the desert!?" Rinoa all but screamed the question.

                "What the hell is wrong with you?" Seifer narrowed his eyes.

                The sorceress stretched her hand towards the blonde. Seifer could feel the energy gathering around her fingertips. It was strange, but he could see the energy before it became visible as riveting white lines that crawled over her hand. He had never been able to _feel_ the power; he had only seen it in the past.

                _What the hell is happening?_

                Seifer didn't have much time to think about the situation. The energy around Rinoa's fingers intensified. Without warning, the magic sprung off of the sorceress' hand, snapped through the air and struck Seifer dead on in the chest..

                ..yet he didn't feel a thing. Bewildered, Seifer watched the white lines snake their way over his body, not once touching his skin. Slowly they faded to nothing. Seifer had taken no damage. It was like what had happened was an illusion, a dream—that or something was protecting him from harm.

                Rinoa had, for once, a look of pure shock. If Seifer had not been so damn confused, he might have enjoyed the expression on her face. For once she didn't have power over him. She didn't have control over the situation because she had not planned for Seifer to become immune to her magic. Rinoa was at a complete loss for words and actions.

                "I thought that.." She lowered her hand to hand uselessly at her side. Her brown eyes grew dim and distant with internal thoughts. "..that only Squall.."

                "What? What about Squall?" Seifer snapped out of his confusion at the mentioned of the brunet's name. All thoughts of magic and the black box were shoved aside even though the smell of death still lingered in the air. "He only what?"

                Rinoa's eyes slowly focused and lifted to meet Seifer's burning jade. She remained silent as she examined his expression and tried to piece together the puzzle present before her. The sorceress picked up on the prince's concern for the brown-haired slave. "You've.. been around him, haven't you?"

                "What does it matter?" Rinoa's inquiry was more of an accusation than a question, so Seifer responded defensively. Neither of them was going to let themselves give in and answer each other's question. There was nothing to be learned, just everything to be seconded guessed between the two. Seifer was doing his good share of making up scenarios about the sorceress' peculiar question.

                "Of course you have. He must have given something to you—or you took something away from him. What do you have of Squall's?" Rinoa answered herself then began to advance on the prince. She looked him up and down, trying to spot something out of the ordinary.

                It was with those words that Seifer remembered the cross hidden in his pocket. He was right to not let Rinoa see the necklace; she was showing a dark interest in the object she had never known to exist. But how had she known that he had it in the first place—and also known it was Squall's? Gods, just what _was_ the damn thing!?

                _I'm in way over my head._ Seifer glanced off to the side in momentary defeat. _Although, it's a nice challenge to try and figure all this out._

                An impish grin played on Seifer's lips. He turned his mischievous green eyes to focus back on the sorceress. "I bet you are dying to know."

                "What do you have?" Rinoa repeated with more venom in her words.

                Seifer smirked arrogantly when Rinoa answered his question without meaning to. It was easy to pick up on her urgency to know what the object was. Her words were biting, but Seifer didn't flinch; long ago he had built up immunity to her poison. Right then he loved nothing more than the feeling of power he had over the woman. He wanted nothing more than to hold his knowledge above her head and watch her jump to try and grasp at it. "I'm sorry, that is strictly confidential between prince and slave."

                "You have no idea what you have. Whatever he gave you—" Rinoa cut herself off when she realized that by the words that she had spoken it was like telling Seifer he had possession of a God's power—which wasn't far from the truth.

                Seifer smiled and began to back away towards the doorway. "Whatever he gave me has turned you into a harmless child."

                _At least to me_, Seifer retorted as he caught the sight of the black box out of the corner of his eyes. He didn't let his expression change, except for the darkening of his jade eyes. They now reflected with black, like the death inside the box. But he'd be damned if he let Rinoa find a weakness now that he was in control.

                "You don't even know how to use it," Rinoa spat, trying to point out his idiocy.

                _Use it? It's just a necklace, some talisman. What do you mean 'use it'?_

                Seifer gave a light shrug in response. He wasn't going to be a fool and try to deny her words. "I'm a quick learner."

                Rinoa didn't have a come back to the prince. She crossed her arms and watched him disappear through the curtains. Once out a view, Seifer let the smile fade into a frown. He glanced down the hall at the empty guard post. "Thank you for the gift cousin. I'll be sure to find one just as stunning for you."

                The prince let out a sigh and ran a hand through his golden hair. A tingling sensation numbed his fingers and Seifer pulled his hand away. Faint lines of electricity danced around his fingertips before disappearing. It seemed the effects of the thunder magic still clung to him. The foreign energy brought on a flood of mental questions. Seifer needed answers, and there was only one person who would be able to provide the right answers: Squall.

**End Chapter**

______________________________________________

**Author's Notes: **_Okay yes. What is in the box is suppose to be misleading. I decided I want to respond the reviewers. I think you'd like feedback too? Chii?_

**Insane Keyblader:**_ It's implied that Rinoa stabbed Fujin's eye. (I hope?) I don't think Fu would have stuck around long enough for her to actually cut out her eye. *shudders* I don't update that often, do I? X.x_

**Love Witch:**_ Favorite story? I feel honored! xD I'm glad you like my Seifer. I think I'm having a difficult time keeping him some-what in character. He'd be more evil if I could go all out villain mode on him. But he likes Squall, so I had to give him some sort of a heart. By doing that I made Seifer extremely paranoid for some reason. *whispers* I bet he doesn't sleep at night. That's why he's so irritable._

**Faery-of-fiction:** _Oh dear lord. I read over that last chapter and saw all my mistakes. I tried to correct as many as I could. If I ever put up a chapter with that much carelessness, I give you the right to smack me. Sorry to say, there isn't much insight to the prince's time in the desert. We'll just assume he moped around. He needs to be smacked sometimes too.._

**Legowen: **_LoL. Scarred by a loaf of stale bread. Tempting… xD_

**Redrum:** _You're right about Seifer about not being strict about the laws against Griever. Heck! He didn't even recognized griever's symbol. I say that because Seifer grew up knowing nothing about Griever, so it only makes sense to me that he wouldn't know._

**Kitian**: _I'm taking the whole desert stuff to heart. I've been trying to lay down the symbolism as strongly as I could. Such as Seifer is the evening desert (the dark golden color, the fire-like appearance, pride, anger, passion, determination) And then Squall would be the desert at night (The cold ice like appearance, the colors of blue and gray, the silence and sadness it portrays) I also pointed out that the evening and night are close to together, they follow after one another perfectly, but are completely different. Just like two certain characters.. who are slowly getting closer.. /swt_


	16. An Eye for an Eye

**Chapter Sixteen: An Eye for an Eye**

                Seifer quietly, and quite calmly left the palace. His mind was brewing with unanswered questions. First there was the fact that Fujin was missing. Second, Raijin apparently had been caught out in the desert and Rinoa had killed him. Third, Seifer had suddenly become immune to magical attacks. Fourth, number three had to do something with Squall's pendant. Fifth, where was Squall?

                Oddly, the blonde wasn't concerned too much with items one and two. At the moment he was currently obsessed with finding the brunet slave. Ha, slave. That word tasted so bitter on his tongue. Squall was anything but a slave. Seifer had proof of that right in the palm of his hand—Wait.

                Seifer paused and fumbled around until he had retrieved the silver necklace from his pocket. Jade eyes traced the engraved lines like he had done so many times before and the prince soon found himself phasing out of reality. He wasn't thinking about anything; simply staring at the reflective metal that held some mysterious, heavy secret.

                // _What do you need?_ //

                "Huh?" Seifer's eyes snapped back into focus. He nearly dropped the pendant in his moment of surprise. The low, powerful voice had jerked him from his daze. It almost sounded like his father, but more powerful, if that was even possible. Who could be more powerful than the pharaoh?

                Jade eyes scanned the vacant street. There wasn't a soul in sight, which meant no one had spoken to him. Seifer sighed and placed the cross back into his tunic pocket. "Now I'm the one losing my mind."

                Things were so chaotic the past few days. Seifer had been a fool to try and run from the problems. It seemed by exiling himself into the desert had only caused the problems to multiply. There was so much to sort out yet the blonde couldn't bring himself to focus on one thing; at least, nothing important. All he wanted to do was find Squall and needle some answers out of the brunet.

                Sure there was more important things to worry about. Seifer just didn't care about them. They were just little things that were meant to fit together in one big problem. 

                Seifer shook his head to try and shake the puzzle pieces into place. He just did not have the patience to sit down and put in the effort to try and connect the incidents. He already knew that Rinoa was plotting something behind his back. That was why Fujin was dismissed from the palace; why Raijin was no longer breathing; why his father had not asked to see him—it was all meant to affect Seifer, he knew. It was working too. Seifer had nearly been overwhelmed. That was until Rinoa's ploy slipped. Something had gone wrong. Her plans had suddenly fallen apart when Seifer had shown immunity to her magic.

                It was all because of the silver pendant; the necklace that belonged to Squall. That was where Seifer's answers would be found. Whatever the connection between the brunet and the pendant would make everything become here. It would chase away the fog that lingered in front of Seifer jade orbs. He would be able to see what was going on, instead of fumbling around in the dark. Honestly, the prince had no idea what was going on around him anymore.

                Again shaking his head, Seifer tried to silence his brooding thoughts. He surveyed his surroundings. The buildings were tinted with gold of the setting sun. Strange, it had only been noon when he had left the palace. It wasn't as if he had spaced out. Or, maybe he had.

                Thoughtfully Seifer pressed his hand over the small lump that was his tunic pocket. He could feel the cross pushing into his side. It was such a strange little trinket. Staring at the finely engraved lines seemed to pull him out of reality into a word of haze. It was another thing that Seifer couldn't understand. He hated it.

                "Losing your touch, Seifer, get a grip," The prince growled lowly to himself.

                Willing his limbs to move, the blonde walked down the street while green eyes scanned his surroundings, looking for anyone familiar. Slaves from the quarry were returning home. They never even lifted their heads to look at him. They were just mindless bodies that drifted past him into their small homes; too tired from labor to be alert. Not that the prince minded. He didn't want to draw attention to himself.

                "How about I roast some chicken up tonight?" A voice rang out clearly over the muffled sounds of a busy street. It sounded out of place; so full of cheer and happiness. An eroding section of town where slaves were stuffed did not strike Seifer as the place to hear optimism.

                "We don't have chicken.." A fainter voice responded. This one held the gloom and pessimism to counter the first voice.

                "Whaaat? You don't know that! I could have picked up one this morning!" The first voice, obviously female, argued.

                Seifer was moving closer to the voices, it seemed to be drifting from two individuals that were walking ahead of him on the street. He was now close enough to make out the indignant snort made by the second speaker, some man. "And just where would you have hid it?"

                "That would be a seeecreet," The girl chimed in a sing-song voice. "Say, where's Squall?"

                Seifer came to a dead stop. His heart skipped a beat at the name. He strained eagerly to hear the forthcoming respond to the girl who asked the question that Seifer had been asking himself.

                "Huh?" There was shuffling just up ahead as the two stopped. Seifer tried to focus his attention anywhere but the couple to avoid being spotted. The man was looking around the street. "He was right behind us, I swear.."

                "Oh, he's always running off." The girl pouted while turning around to scan the street as well. Seifer caught a glimpse of her face, then the man next to her. It was the two slaves that Seifer assumed to be Squall's friends. The man's name was Zell, the female's.. that information slipped his mind at the moment.

                "As long as they didn't drag him off to the palace again. For the love of Leviathan, you'd think those people would leave him alone after the first time they sent him back," Zell all but growled the words.

                Seifer grimaced. He then noticed that he had stopped walking when the other two had come to a stand still. Instantly he began to move again, shifting to the other side of the street as he passed the couple. Silently he thanked the gods that he was still dressed in some-what common clothes, and that he had not bothered to put on any jewelry that morning. It made him less conspicuous. That is if he ignored the fact that he was cleanly washed, not covered in dust and dirt like the others.

                "I don't think they would. He said something about how his scar makes him clash with their rooms of silk and marble.." The girl stated thoughtfully.

                Slipping around a corner. Seifer pressed himself into the sun warmed stone and continued to listen. The mentioned of Squall's scar made a frown twitch at the corner of his lips. That little mark did nothing to hinder the brunet's beauty. In fact, it only seemed to draw Seifer attention more strongly. The scar made him look at Squall's face only to find his eerie, yet very attractive eyes that reflected different shades of gray and blue.

                "Yeah! What is the deal with him being so damn paranoid about that—I'd like to hurt that pampered prince for doing that to him. I bet I could kick his ass easy." Zell responded with a sudden spurt of anger and energy.

                Seifer couldn't help but to smirk as he watched the shadow of the man throw a few punches into the air. It seemed the short blonde was easily worked up. The prince felt the need to turn the corner and stroll up to him, just to see if Zell would back up his words. It would be funny to see the look on the man's face..

                "It _is_ his first time being hit. I'm sure he takes it personally.." the girl's concern filled voice seemed to quell Zell's urge to fight.

                Wincing, Seifer turned his eyes away from the shadows on the sand. It hurt to know that he had been the one to drag Squall out into the open to be subjected to unwanted attention. Then he had gone further to scar something that had been so perfect, just because of some stupid paranoia. Of course Squall probably took it personally—there was no reason for him to be bloodied.

                _Gods, I'm so stupid sometimes.._

                "I guess your right. I just wish they would leave him alone.." Zell sighed, his shadow slumping into itself.

                Should Seifer just leave Squall alone? The brunet would probably be better off without the prince of Zamir bugging him. But Squall didn't belong in this place, which is what Seifer felt. He knew the other man deserved something better in life. Not a life of a slave..

                What made him so special?

                _The pendant speaks enough for Squall's sake. He doesn't belong here._

                Seifer switched his gaze back to the shadows that were beginning to fade. The sun had nearly disappeared under the sand. The street was silent. All the residents had moved inside except for Zell, the petite girl, and the eavesdropping prince.

                "So, this chicken you spoke of, were you serious?" Zell's voice was suddenly filled with hope. It struck at Seifer's heart. He was beginning to realize that for so long he had not seen slaves as real people. But they were, with real hopes and concerns. They had friends and families. They were not animals..

                Guilt washed over him. Just another problem he would have to face sooner or later.

                "Of course I was, silly!" The shorter of the two shadows disappeared, followed soon by the second.

                Seifer waited a few seconds before peeking around the corner to confirm that the two had retreated inside of the house. Mentally he tried to note where the home was so he could come back later to see if Squall had returned because it sounded as if the brunet lived with the other two. He doubted he would find it again, everything here looked the same to him.

                _So, if he's not here now, that means he's still got to be out somewhere._

                Nodding with his assumption, Seifer pushed off the wall and wandered down the street. As he passed by a darkened alley he glanced into the narrow space between the two buildings. A shadow at the other end froze, and then slipped out of view. The prince stiffened and continued walking as an unpleasant chill ran up his spine. A ruffian, which was what it had to be. But no one would dare to attack him, the prince… right?

                Seifer quicken his pace. The buildings around him suddenly disappeared and he found himself standing in the area he had been at the previous night. The well sat a few feet in front of him. The water bucket was missing this time. The blonde strode forward and leaned over with his hands resting on the stone edge. He gazed down into the darkness. There was no sign of water at the bottom. Seifer flicked a stone into the black hole and awaited the sound of splashing water. Yet nothing echoed up the rocky shaft.

                Frowning, Seifer stood up. He'd bring up that issue with his father that the well in the east had gone dry. The people wouldn't have anything to drink—that would mean that the death count would rise as the week passed. Seifer didn't want to that to happen. Not now that he knew the faces on the bodies would once have been the cheery brunette girl, or the easily riled blonde man.

                _Great, I'm going all sentimental. It must be getting late.._

                Seifer stood from the wall and turned, only to nearly bump into someone that had been standing behind him. First instinct told him that it was a scoundrel looking for a few golden coins to steal. Muscles tensed in anticipation of a fight. Jade eyes sized up his enemy, only to recognize the lithe frame of a man with uneven chocolate brown hair and cold cobalt eyes. Seifer relaxed, though his heart was still hammering in his chest. "Gods, where did you come from?"

                Silence was the given response. Squall simply stared back with a blank expression, but Seifer could pick up on the slight annoyance that lingered only in the man's eyes. He didn't really take note of it. Seifer was far too captured by the way the starlight made Squall's pale skin glow with ethereal light. His dark brown hair looked almost black, with streaks of gray where the light shone on it—which only served to heighten Squall's mesmerizing appearance. Seifer felt his mouth go dry at the sight. His prepared words flew right out his memory.

                Squall shifted his weight under the stare. He glanced off to the side, "I followed you.."

                The response knocked a small bit of sense back into Seifer's head, "Why?"

                The annoyance flared in Squall's eyes, but he otherwise maintained an expression of indifference. Seifer smirked and shook his head at the rising tension between them. "It doesn't matter, I was looking for you anyway."

                "Why?" The brunet narrowed his eyes on the prince in suspicion.

                Seifer raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, the smirk still firmly placed on his lips. "That question sounds vaguely familiar."

                A scowl accompanied the seething glare Squall was shooting at Seifer. He shifted his weight, uneasy. That's when Seifer noticed that Squall was keeping one of his arms positioned so it was hidden behind his back. It brought up the memory of the previous night when they had met in that exact spot, and Squall had been hiding something then. Something that was now in the prince's possession.

                "I've only come to talk with you," Seifer said as he recalled the silver cross. Even though Squall said nothing, the thick silence urged the prince to continue. "Do you have any ties with Sorcerers, or Sorceresses?"

                _Okay. Stupid question._ Seifer adverted his gaze to the ground—missing the way Squall's eyes slightly bugged in surprise.

                The prince dug into his pocket and pulled out the necklace. His fingers curled around the chain as he thrust it into the space between them, sending the cross to swing back and forth through the air. Seifer shifted his jade eyes back onto the brunet's face, "This belongs to you, correct?"

                Squall frowned, it was only a faint slant at the corner of his lips but Seifer didn't miss the change. Cobalt eyes stared at the pendant while eyebrows knitted together in thought. ".. Yes. How did yo—"

                "—you dropped it," Seifer quickly supplied the answer. He didn't mean to cut the other off. Mentally wincing, Seifer silently cursed at himself for doing such a thing. He really wanted Squall to talk, not make him revert back to silent mode. Hell, he needed the brunet to talk if he was going to get any answers. "What is it?"

                Squall paled, if that was possible. The icy glare was once again shot at the prince. "It's a necklace."

                Smirking, though annoyed at the response, Seifer cocked his head at the other. "Do you really think I am that dense? I can see that it is a necklace, but I _know_ it's more than just a necklace."

                "It's _my_ necklace," Squall retorted while reaching with his free hand to grab at the chain.

                Seifer pulled his arm back out of the man's reach, "You know, the creature on this looks familiar, like some kind a feline. Perhaps a tiger or something.."

                "A lion," Squall's sharp tone corrected. He still had his hand extended, as if expecting Seifer to hand back the jagged cross any second.

                Seifer grinned as he won over one small answer, "A lion, of course, the cat associated with that one god.."

                Jade eyes flicked over to Squall, but he saw the other draw his lips tightly into a thin line. It seems the brunet was not going to fall for the same trick twice. Seifer lightly shrugged it off. He knew it was going to be a challenge to bring forth the answers he needed. "Anyway, Rinoa has really taken a fancy to this peculiar necklace. I was going to let her have it, but I thought you might want it back.."

                Squall's sucked in a breath. It was faint, but Seifer swore what he heard was a gasp. He didn't quite know the meaning behind the reaction—but he was determined to find out. "I don't hear you protesting, so I guess this old thing doesn't mean much to you."

                "No," Squall flexed the fingers of his extended hand. "I do want it. Give it to me."

                It wasn't a question, more like a command. Seifer lazily looked from the pendant then to Squall with an inquisitive gaze. It was amusing to hear someone try and order him around. "Excuse me?"

                "Please," Squall growled with a noticeable narrowing of his eyes. His plea didn't hold a trace of sincerity.

                "Hmm," Seifer drawled and looked back to the silver talisman with a smile. "She really would like this, you know. She said something silly like how it would protect her.."

                _Like it seemed to do for me_. Seifer thought, hoping that Squall wasn't able to tell that everything he was saying was a lie.

                "Seifer," Squall firmly spoke the name.

                Raising his gaze, Seifer felt his arrogance slip for a moment at the sound of his own name. Squall didn't even call him 'prince'. It felt nice to be called just by his first name. It somehow made him feel more comfortable in the other's presence. "Yes, that is my name."

                Squall let a quiet, frustrated sigh escape his lungs. He looked angry—the swirling storms in his eyes told Seifer all he needed to know about Squall's tiring patience. The brunet shifted his hand to aim at the cross, "Give it to me."

                Seifer glanced at the hand, then at the other arm that remained hidden. He should have been suspicious, but he was too focused on needling the answers out of Squall. "I will not. Until you tell me what makes this pendant so important."

                _And completely mind capturing._

                "You don't need to know that," Squall's even voice was beginning to slip.

                Seifer picked up on the traces of dangerous venom in the words. The blonde responded to this by standing up to his full height to look down on Squall. If there was going to be threats made, _he_ was going to be the one issuing them. "It has something to do with magic, doesn't it."

                Squall bit down on his lower lip. He let his arm slowly drop down to his side. His eyes darted up to meet with Seifer's questioning jade eyes. Yet he said nothing.

                "How does it work?" Seifer's tone had grown serious. He remembered that Rinoa had said that he didn't know how to use it. By all means the blonde wanted to learn. Anything that made Rinoa question her powers was worth his time.

                "If you answer my next question, I will answer yours.." Squall presented a deal with the prince.

                Seifer found his gaze drifting from Squall's eyes to look at his bottom lip that he had released in order to talk. It was slightly swollen from being bitten. Seifer lost his train of thought as he instead had the sudden image of himself kissing Squall and taking that pouting lip between his own to lightly suckle the soft flesh.

                "That night, when we were in your room, did you mean to kill me?" Squall tilted his head at the strange luster in Seifer's jade eyes.

                The question snapped the prince back to his senses as he recalled the night. Images of blood instantly drove away his previous thoughts. He adverted his gaze in hidden shame. He didn't want to answer that particular question, but the truth was not very pleasant. Although, Squall was offering to respond to the other question..

                "Yes," Seifer forced his expression into impassiveness. "Yes, I did mean to kill you."

                "Why?" Squall quickly questioned. He didn't sound at all curious. He could have been talking about something as boring as dung beetles by the crisp, sharp tone he was using.

                Seifer managed to stifle a sigh. He forced himself to smirk, though his expression was more threatening than amused. These questions were not to his liking. "Because she thought you were perfect."

                _As I did.. do.. _

                Squall's expression hardened. Seifer curled his fingers around the lion cross in a mix of nervousness and annoyance. "I hate Rinoa with an undying passion. She is a sorceress, as you probably know. I was convinced she used some magic spell to wrap some alluring illusion around you, to keep me from fumbling with her plans—that somehow were tied with you. I wanted to break that spell, and spoil her scheme."

                "So the reason you tormented me, hurt me was because you wanted to get back at Rinoa?" Squall's voice barely managed to remain cool. He arched an eyebrow at the prince in question.

                "Yes," Seifer spoke without thinking. At once he realized his mistake and the trap he had fallen into. Damnit. He could never keep his mind straight when dealing with Squall. Now the brunet was looking murderous; his eyes had shifted to an opaque gray with a cold fury deep inside. "Now wait a moment, it was like that in the beg—"

                "You go about ruining my life just to piss off that snake of a cousin of yours," Squall spit out the words, not caring if he was speaking too boldly for his own good.

                "Hold on, let me try and explain—I said I was sorry about all that!" Seifer argued while trying to suppress the boiling anger of his rising temper. The brunet was clever; able to detour the conversation away from the questioning of the necklace and it's importance. And damn Seifer for letting Squall do it so easily.

                "You weren't sorry in the least," Squall growled.

                Suddenly a smirk appeared on the brunet's lips. That scared Seifer slightly. He expected glares, blank looks, or apathetic expressions—but a smirk on those pale lips made Seifer nervous. The murderous luster was still circling in the gray eyes, and the quirk at the corner of his lips only seemed to promise pain.

                "There is the saying, however, that would erase what you have done," The words came out lightly as Squall kept showing the sinful smirk. "An eye for an eye.."

                Seifer narrowed his eyes in thought as he worked out what Squall's words meant. His jade eyes grazed over the scar running between the brunet's eyes and it clicked in his mind. "You can't be serious.."

                Squall moved his arm away from behind his back. The glimmer of moonlight off of metal caught Seifer's attention. It was a sickly curved blade that made the blonde nearly choke before coughing to clear his throat. His heart trembled inside of his chest as the thought of the sharp edge slicing through his skin with little to no resistance. Seifer never realized how intimidating a dagger could be until now when he was weaponless with the blade pointed at him by a man with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

                "You can't. I'm the prince.." Seifer was trying to convince himself that Squall would not—_could_ not harm him.

                "Give me the necklace," Squall stated while twirling the dagger between his fingers.

                Seifer narrowed his eyes at the blade. In a moment he fisted his own heart to stop the frantic beats. The momentary fear was stomped into oblivion. Seifer smirked at the danger—it was nothing but bartering. Squall wanted the necklace, not to attack him. The blonde took a step forward, using only his height for intimidation. He smiled mischievously when Squall took a faltering step backwards. "You'll need to make more convincing threats then that."

                Squall saw the challenge and strengthened his stance. He brought the dagger up so the tip pointed between the blonde's eyes. Seifer stopped centimeters away from the sharp edge and stared down into Squall's cold gray glare. "What are you so angry about, Squally-boy? Are you upset that I know your secret?"

                Seifer watched the dagger quiver with a small shake of Squall's hand. The prince was lying through his teeth. He didn't' know what secret the other was keeping. Years of fake apologies and false promises to the people had made lying as easy as breathing. Seifer learned that if you acted like you knew something, it made the other person question themselves, only then would the real answers would slip out.

                Squall's gray eyes dulled, becoming distant as if he was lost in internal thought; out of reality. Seifer tilted his head to the side to get out of the path of the dagger. He leaned forward, bringing his lips dangerously close to the side of Squall's face in order to whisper into his ear. Seifer could feel the warmth radiating from the other's body but calmly kept himself from touching the brunet. "You have the power to control magic. I'm right, aren't I."

                Seifer tilted his head towards Squall. He was tempted to let his lips press against the other's skin in order to satisfying his need to know how the other tasted. Squall's exposed neck barely a breath's distance away looked very enticing. It was by sheer self-control that Seifer managed to keep his desires at bay. "I know I'm right. That means you are some kind of sorc—"

                "No!" Squall's eyes suddenly snapped back to reality. He jerked his head to the side to meet Seifer's lusting gaze. In the next instant, Squall had stepped back and swept his arm at the blonde. The dagger met its earlier target—carving diagonally between Seifer's eyes that were tightly closed in instinctive reaction.

                The prince stumbled backwards and pressed a hand to his face. He could feel the warm, thick liquid coating over his fingers and running down the side of his face. White searing pain shot through his senses. Seifer cracked his eyes open, but all he saw was a world of red, and when he shut his eyes the pain blinded him into seeing stars behind his eyelids. The pain didn't make Seifer cry. Pain made him angry. So very angry. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and each throb of pain only made Seifer more enraged.

                "GUARDS!" Seifer yelled out as loud as he could. Squall was going to pay for this. _How dare he, how dare.._

                Blood clung to his eyelashes, making it hard to open his eyes without staring out into a red, so Seifer kept his eyes closed. He heard the heavy footfalls of the night guards. There was noise of a scuffle in front of him in what Seifer assumed to be the men seizing Squall. A hand encircled his forearm and the blonde immediately jerked out of the other's grasp. "Don't touch me!"

                "Prince Almasy!" The guard chirped upon recognizing the angry baritone voice. "Prince, please, come with me back to the palace to be treated."

                "That was a stupid mistake, to attack the prince," Seifer heard one guard jeering at their captive.

                The blonde snorted. Yeah, a very careless mistake indeed. The last man who had attacked him had ended up lying in a pool of his own blood. It was like signing one's own death warrant to attack a person of the royal family. Squall had nicely placed his signature with the gash between Seifer's eyes. Another throb of pain teased at the prince's anger. "Take him away, now! Show him the courtesies of our dungeon!"

                Seifer pulled his hand away and scrapped his fingers across his eyes to clear away the blood hindering his sight. He glared at the guards that were dragging a prisoner towards the edge of the city.

                _Oh Squall, that was a mistake that you will pay dearly for._

                His heart twisted in pain, but not from the wound burning between his eyes. Perhaps Seifer was the one who had made the mistake—surely he deserved what had happened. It hurt to know Squall had just signed his own death warrant. Yet Seifer's seething anger blinded any logic from the situation. Absolutely no one would get away with humiliating him.

**End Chapter.**


	17. Finally Free

**Chapter Seventeen: Finally Free..**

                **//—**_Blood splattered against the walls. Seifer fell to the floor while grasping at his right arm. Four parallel gashes, claw-like marks, were bleeding profusely no matter how much pressure the prince applied to the fresh wound. He pushed himself along the floor, backing away from his attacker. Jade eyes frantically looked around for some kind of escape, but the room melted into shadows leaving him in the darkness with 'it'._

_                "**How dare you!**" 'it' roared._

_                Seifer felt his whole body tremble with the powerful voice that was so full of rage. His back bumped into an invisible barrier, leaving him trapped. Fleeting eyes switched to his pursuer. It was a tall black creature, almost shaped like a man—except for the two wings that stretched out of it's back with feathers of white tinged with blue. It's long slender tail was thrashing wildly through the air behind it in its fury. Five small red horn-like extensions coming from the monster's head, which was defiantly not that of a man's—it was a feline, a lion's head and mane to be exact._ [1]

_                It would have been a sight to marvel, if Seifer had not been so scared out of his mind. His eyes were glued to the pearly white fangs the beast was baring at him—and also at the wickedly clawed hand that dripped with his own blood._

_                "**How dare you harm those in my protection!**" It continued to bellow while drawing ever closer to the vulnerable prince._

_                "I didn't want to! It was a mistake!" Seifer shouted back at the twisted form of an angel. The words just left his mouth, even though he didn't know what they were arguing about._

_                "**You will pay with your blood for the sin you have committed!**" The creature suddenly fell onto all fours like a true cat. It roared, shaking Seifer to the bones._

_                "It's not too late! I can fix it—I can—" Seifer didn't have time to finish his plea. The creature had pounced, aiming its lethal claws at the fallen prince. Jade eyes widen in fear as Seifer saw his own death closing in too quickly to ask the gods for help. Again the monster roared right before—_**//**

                Seifer woke up, sitting straight up in his bed. His body was drenched with a cold sweat, making the thin sheets cling to his body. He was panting heavily, and his forehead was pounding. Jade eyes searched wildly around the room, taking in the familiar sight of his bedchambers and then they paused to linger thankful on the rays of morning light that seeped in through the window.

                His entire night had been one long nightmare, but it would all be all right now, it was all a bad dream. Still, Seifer felt shaky as he stood up and walked over to a small water basin alongside the wall. He dipped his hands into the cool water and splashed it over his face to wake himself and chase away the last memories of the ominous dream.

                Seifer's hand found a clean towel nearby. He pressed it against his wet face while letting out a tired sigh into the soft fabric. When he pulled it away and opened his eyes he dropped the towel in surprise. There was red twisted in with the white linen fibers. Seifer looked at the water basin to see the water swirling with streaks of pale red. Blood. The prince forced himself to look up in the mirror situated above the basin. His reflection stared back at him in horror with dried blood clinging to a cut running down the middle of his forehead.

                _I thought it was all just a dream.._

                Seifer took a few deep breaths to slow his heart. Calmly he bent down to wash his face again, making sure to cleanse away the blood. He dried his face off and looked into the mirror a second time to take a closer look at his new scar. Images of the previous night play before his eyes. Seifer groaned as the memories caused his head to throb painfully.

                "Oh gods, I didn't. Did I?" Seifer looked inquisitively at his own reflection that returned the gaze, except the mirror show his golden eyebrows drawing together to wrinkle the pale red scar.

                The prince frowned when he couldn't answer himself. His eyes strayed from the reflection and landed instead on the silver pendant on the floor near his bed. Somehow he remembered throwing Squall's necklace there during a fit the previous night. The words of the dream beast rang clearly in his head. It had been angry with Seifer hurting someone that it was suppose to protect. Could it be possible that whatever demon, or god, the pendant signified was meant to watch over Squall?

                _No wonder it couldn't protect him. I have the necklace, not Squall._

                Seifer felt his insides twist in guilt. It was his fault that the brunet now laid somewhere in the city's dungeon. Who knows what tortures they had already subjected the man to. In the end the guards would kill Squall. But there was still time—to fix it, to change the death sentence.

                "Only father can do that," Seifer argued and paced angrily back to his bedchambers to get dressed. It was true. Only the pharaoh had the right to who would live, and who would die. Seifer couldn't just stroll into the dungeon and demand that they release Squall. "I can't go up to father either. What the hyne am I suppose to say? 'Oh father, please let Squall go free. He attacked me, but I deserved it because I am such a prick.'"

                Seifer sighed as he chose his clothes carefully. Despite his words, he did plan to go make a plea to the pharaoh. It would help if he wore clothes that were appropriate for the occasion; traditional long skirt[2], and a semi long robe that was open in the front. It was too hot to wear anything more. All of it was white, trimmed in patterns of gold. Seifer put on his amulets, rings and necklaces. Last of all, he picked up the lion cross from the floor. A chill ran up his spine as he stared at the beast that roared forever in silence. Whatever—_whoever_—the necklace resembled was the very creature that had invaded his dreams.

                Seifer quickly stuffed the talisman into his robe pocket before he could lose himself in a daze. He hastily left the room with dark thoughts already brewing in his mind.

                He walked down the halls, but didn't see where he was going. All he could focus on was how in the world he was going to convince his father that he needed to let Squall go free. Maybe he could mention that some unknown god was going to release its wrath onto him if any _true_ harm came to Squall. Maybe that would work, maybe..

                Upon rounding a corner, Seifer ran straight into an armored guard. The other man was smaller and stumbled backwards a few steps. He then stood tensely after a quick respectful bow. "Sorry sir."

                The blonde didn't care and just waved the man way. If it had been any day in the past, Seifer would have at least given the other a sneer. But today it was nothing.

                "Uh, Prince Almasy, I come with a message."

                "Wh—make it quick," Seifer sighed while pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose to try and ease the throbbing pain centered in the scar.

                "Miss Rinoa would like to see you."

                Now the sneer came, out of annoyance towards his cousin. Seifer had thought the woman would have been finished with him. Didn't she throw all her surprises at him the other day? "She's going to have to wait."

                "She said it was urgent sir," The man responded.

                "You—" Seifer pointed a finger at the stiff guard while sneering in disgust, "Tell her that she can just sit on her pretty little ass and wait until I find time for her. I have more important things to take care of right now."

                Without waiting for a response, Seifer stepped around the man and continued his way towards the main hallway. The day was only getting worse. What could that meddling cousin of his want from him now?

                _Wants me to die, no doubt._

                Seifer rolled his eyes as he entered the grand hallway. A plush dark red rug welcomed his bare feet. It wasn't comforting. The color only served to remind Seifer of past events and his disturbing dream. As he walked along, he couldn't help but think he was wading through a river a blood. Everywhere was blood; death; darkness. It clung to him like some foreshadowing sign of doom.

                The walls gave way to a vast circular and high, arched ceiling. In the middle sat the pharaoh, and the empty chair besides him signified the place for his mistress. No doubt Seifer's mother was absent to frolic with her friends in the city. Male friends at that; men who kissed the ground she walked upon and would do anything for her in a heartbeat.

                "Father," Seifer bowed at the waist. The man in the decorated chair turned his attention towards the blonde. Seifer remained in his humble position, staring intently at where the rug met marble; where the river of blood touched the shore.

                "Yes? Rise. You are not a commoner, you are my son," The pharaoh responded, though his voice was tense.

                Seifer remained bowing, "I've come to ask a favor of you."

                "Ask and you shall receive."

                "There was a man that attacked me last night and is now being held in the dungeon. I ask you to release him," Seifer bit down on his lip as he awaited his father's response.

                "You can't be serious," his father laughed. "He must be punished for his crimes."

                "I deserved it," Seifer growled while lifting his head. He watched as he father narrowed his eyes in a mixture of anger and disgust. "He did nothing wrong to me. I want him to be freed."

                The pharaoh regarded his son in cold silence. His dark eyes burned into Seifer's jade, but the prince did not look away—he could not afford to submit to his father's decisions. Squall was in danger, and consequently, so was Seifer. The pharaoh finally broke the gaze to look elsewhere, "See the herbalist about that scar on your face."

                Seifer glared. His father was changing the subject. "Father. He needs to be release—or something bad will happen."

                "He will be punished, just like the others. The gods have already bestowed that fate upon this man." The pharaoh responded stubbornly with a sharp edge to his words.

                "No. That is not the Gods wishes," Seifer shook his head. His father was so far from the truth. The gods—or one specific god—was angry, very angry about Squall's fate. "You need to rel—"

                "You are dismissed," His father cut off his argument.

                "Fa—"

                "—I said you are dismissed, or do you go so far as to disrespect the pharaoh?"

                _I disrespect my father, not the pharaoh._ Seifer sneered, then forced himself to bow. He turned and stormed out of the throne. Internally he knew that he could never waver his father decision. The man didn't think that these people were real. They were like animals, so it was all right if he killed on if it wronged him.

                "**How deaf and blind can you be!?**" Seifer yelled at the walls as soon as he was a good distance away from the pharaoh. He would have struck the stone if he didn't have the sense to know that doing such would only result in immense pain. "What kind of pharaoh are you if you can't hear the will of the gods?"

                The prince headed towards the east wing, regrettably going to see his cousin. He figured he might as well get it over with. She would, no doubt, have some bad news for him as well. He would take all the problems, and damn them to hell. It didn't matter, he didn't care anymore. The only thing he -did- care about was locked away from him.

                "Rinoa!" Seifer shouted as he threw the silk curtains aside and barged into the sorceress' room. One of her female servants jumped then retreated into the hall in her fright. Rinoa was standing near the window, looking back at Seifer in curiosity.

                "You don't have to yell. You know I am in here," She looked him over, taking in the clothes he was wearing. Her brown eyes laughed at him. "Been to see your father, have you?"

                "Spare me the jests, or I shall rip that forked tongue out of your mouth. What do you want that requires my presence?" Seifer sneered. He really did not feel up to playing word games with Rinoa.

                The sorceress briefly glared before turning back to her window to admire the sunrise. "You remember that one _slave_?"

                Seifer growled at the last word. He picked up on how she stressed her last word, and, in a way, teased him with it. How he knew she was referring to Squall, he didn't know, and didn't put much thought into it before spitting out a retort. "His name is Squall. Get to the point."

                "Yes, Squall.." Rinoa flashed her cousin a cruel, knowing smile. "It seems you have made it a point to get to know this slave. Visiting him during the night.."

                "I happened to run across him when I was in the city," Seifer corrected. The way Rinoa had said it, it sounded like he was having some love affair with the brunette. Although Seifer found himself strongly attracted to the other, he didn't need _that_ kind of gossip circulating through the palace. Just the thought of his father knowing about his unnatural desires made Seifer's head throb. "If you have something to say about him, say it."

                "So I heard that he is being kept in the dungeon. How the guards love their new pet," She said lightly and smiled when Seifer twitched. "Does it disturb you to know this? After all, it was you who put him there in the first place."

                "The point Rinoa, the point," Seifer lowly growled. She knew—she _had_ to know about his feelings towards the brunette. There was no other explanation. Why else would she be toying with him? And if she did indeed know, why was she not trying to make him do something for her with that kind knowledge as blackmail?

                _Of course, if Squall is killed then there is nothing to barter with._

                Rinoa took something off the windowsill and dangled it from her fingers. A ring of iron keys clacked noisily together. A set of _prison_ keys; how she managed to get them, the prince did not want to know. Instead he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the offer, "What do you want from me?"

                "Stop thinking of me as such a wench, I don't want him to die either." She said while holding the keys at arm's length for the prince to take.

                Seifer only narrowed his eyes further, "What are you getting out of this?"

                "You know me too well," Rinoa glared, but it lessened until she finally smirked at the tall blonde. "The boy happens to have something that I want."

                "Something that threatens your power here," Seifer added, knowing full well that she was referring to the lion pendant. He watched a familiar fire light up in the sorceress' brown eyes. "Because, you know, he will never let you have it."

                "You shouldn't meddle with things you know nothing about," Rinoa hissed, and then threw the key ring at him.

                Seifer easily caught the keys. There was something about her offer that he was missing, but the promising aspect of being able to free Squall was too tempting to contemplate consequences. "I know enough about him, and this object of his, to put two and two together."

                Rinoa ruffled and crossed her arms with an annoyed leer, "You act like you know what is going on, but every second that you remain here is another second that Squall spends in the dungeon."

                Seifer snorted. She was right about that. It was odd that she was giving him an excuse to leave. Did she, perhaps, really care about the well being of Squall?—no, that couldn't be possible. This was the woman who followed the motto: Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. But her urgency to see Squall go free drew the prince's curiosity all the same.

                He bowed his head to her, never lowering his eyes in a mock gesture of gratitude. Seifer then turned and left without further insults or retorts. His fingers curled around the iron circle that carried the keys. There was something wrong. Like it was all a trap. Yet, if he didn't go, Squall would be executed by nightfall. So, there really was no choice for him. Seifer _had_ to save the other. Because..

                Why?

                Seifer drew his eyebrows together in thought. The prince never had really liked anyone in the past, so the emotions were new to him. Is this what people did when they were in lo—No. He did not _love_ Squall. There was no way that could be. No.. it was because of the god. Seifer didn't want to die, that's why he was going to rescue Squall. Yeah, that was it.

                "Besides, what bad could happen if I do release him? I'm the prince. There isn't much that can be done to punish me," Seifer nodded to himself as he walked the hallways. He headed for his room first. There was no way that he was going to go slinking around a dungeon dressed as he was. "Father will be angry, but he'll get over it.."

                In his room, Seifer changed into a baggy pair of black pants that fit snuggly around the ankles and waist to keep the sand out. He took a dark green sash and threaded it through the sheath of his dagger, then he tied the sash around his waist. A bit of rummaging around his drawers brought forth a bag of gil—incase he needed to convince the guards to let him by. Seifer took off all his jewelry, spare his rings, before he pulled on a loose fitting long-sleeved black shirt. He slipped into a pair of sandals, tucked the iron key ring by his waist, and then grabbed the silver necklace off the dresser.

                "I'm going to fix my mistake," Seifer grinned at the necklace before looping it around his neck and tucking the pendant under his shirt. A chill ran down his spine as he felt the metal touch against his bare skin. A strange sensation was running through his body, making his fingertips tingle.[3] Seifer gripped his dagger hilt to calm his nerves. He then quietly exited his room.

                Moving through the hallways of the palace was the easy part. No one dared to stop him and ask him where he was going, or what he was doing. It was none of their business; being prince did have its good points. However, once Seifer got out into the dusty streets was when the eyes started to turn towards him in curious stares. The commoners were not as naïve as the palace servants. These people knew the prince was up to something. It wasn't every day that royalty went storming down the streets.

Somewhere along his way, Seifer drew a small crowd of followers. The riff-raff wanted to know what he was up to. Seifer tried to lose them by increasing his pace, but they followed nonetheless. What did they think? That he was going to toss out money to them?

                Seifer paused and pulled his coin bag from his waist. He glared over his shoulder at the small group that was staring at him as if he were a piece of chicken. They were hungry, not for food, but for special attention, the clatter of gold, something that only Seifer could provide to them.

                The prince dug out a few coins and tossed them into the dirt before their feet. They scrambled to pick up the pieces of gil. Seifer sneered. He wanted to comment on how pathetic they were, but instead he stomped down his arrogance. That kind of attitude was what had gotten him into trouble in the first place. Seifer turned and resumed his hasty walk.

                The tall wall of the city limits came into view; much to Seifer's relief. The black garments he was wearing were hot under the high noon sun. The city walls blocked any wind coming in from the desert. Seifer would have welcomed it. Black clothes were designed to make the wearer sweat, and then when a wind came it would cool the sweat to relieve the wearer.

                Seifer spotted the dungeon. A small building situated against the wall. It was larger than it looked, mainly because it was built underground. It made it cooler inside that way—made it so dead flesh didn't fester in the heat. A single guard was standing by the entrance. At this time of day, most of the men should have taken break to go eat lunch.

Seifer straightened his stance and took a deep breath of fresh air before he moved towards the entrance.

                The guard saw the prince approaching. He looked confused, as if he wasn't sure it was really the pharaoh's son. Seifer shot a threatening glare at the man before simply walking past and down the stairs. He let out a held breath once inside. It was going to be easier getting inside than getting back out with Squall. That was assuming that Squall was still alive. The air was foul, reeking of death—it ate away at the hope Seifer was all but clinging to.

                _It can't be too late. It's only been a night. He's alive. I know he is._

                The light from the stairs faded as Seifer finally set foot on level stone floor. A few torches lit the way. Perhaps the guards down here didn't want light, considering the stomach curling sights a person would have to look upon; starved men curled up in the corner of their cells, others chained against the walls with bodies that would be nothing more than bones with bits of rotting flesh still present—all the other flesh been eaten away by rats. Seifer didn't have to see to know what happened to the people down there. He could smell it, the stench of death, blood and despair. He had to get Squall out of there.

                A whip cracked, echoing up the hallway to send a chill down Seifer's spine. The prince moved silently through the halls, nearly invisible in the darkness with his black clothes. His fingers found their grip around the dagger hilt at his waist. The silver pendant felt like it was burning against his chest. It was pulsating with energy. Seifer could feel it in every inch of his body. He took it as a sign that the god was angry—which meant Squall was being hurt.

                Another crack filled the air as Seifer approached the end of the stone corridor. He paused when an abrupt turn twisted the hall and opened up into a larger room. The whipping continued. Seifer peered around the corner. First he noticed the guard wielding the whip. The man moved aside, letting the torch light breath life to the lines of red etched into ivory skin of some man's back.

                "That outta make you fit in now," The guard announced while unshackling one of the victim's wrists. The prisoner immediately slumped towards the ground, only kept standing by the other wrist still encircled in iron. The guard freed that wrist, causing the other to fall to the ground. Seifer safely assumed the prisoner had passed out.

                The burning at Seifer's chest intensified. The blonde put a hand over the small lump in his shirt. The pendant felt like it was burning; yet it did not pain him. In the past the necklace had never done anything like this. But now Seifer thought he understood. After his peculiar dream, it was like he was connected with the talisman. At the moment, the silver pendant was urging him to go forward. The prince could practically hear the roaring order in his mind.

Both of them knew who that unconscious prisoner had been. They were both angry at the red interlacing lines that had riddled the once faultless skin. Both of them were ready to do anything to get the prisoner out.

                The guard picked up the unconscious form by the arm and dragged him down a different hall. Seifer silently slipped through the darkness after the pair. He was tempted to pick up the discarded whip and attack the guard. But there was a time and place for fighting, and the time was not now.

Seifer, for once, kept his temper under control.

                Squall's body was dragged over the cold stone. The guard paused and doubled to open a wooden hatch that was in the middle of the floor. Seifer felt his heart leap as Squall's body was shoved down the trap door. Even from his distance, Seifer heard the muffled thud of the brunet's body hitting against the hay-covered floor below. The guard let the door fall close with a snap, and then swaggered off down the hall.

                Anger. Concern. Guilt. Rage. Chaos. All of it swirled through Seifer's mind as he stared listlessly at trapdoor no more than a few steps ahead of him. He was near the point of panicking. What was he to do? This was not the simple open a locked door and freeing Squall. Seifer stepped forward and kneeled before the wooden hatch. He grabbed the metal hook and pulled it open. Directly below laid Squall, face down into the floor with closed eyes.

                _What do I do!? How do I get him out!? I.. can't.. I don't know what to do_..

                Seifer stared helplessly down at unconscious form. He didn't even know if the other was alive. It seemed like being thrown into a cell below the floor was some careless burial method. The blonde wanted to jump down the hole, just to be down there with Squall. Of course, common sense was there to tell him that if he indeed did go down, that there was no way to get out—but then how did the guards get to them? There had to be a way..

                "Squall.." Seifer frowned at the form. The man below stirred. It was only a slight tensing of the muscles, but Seifer saw this and felt his heart soar. He was alive! The joy was immense, but tinged with the bitterness of guilt and fear. "Squall, I'm coming down, I'm.."

                Seifer heard footsteps of the guard returning. The prince didn't want to be caught. He couldn't afford to be caught. If they found him, they would stop him. They would prevent him from saving Squall. That couldn't happen.

                Without thinking. Seifer grabbed the stone edges and dropped himself down into the room. He hung for a few seconds, trying to judge the best place to land so he didn't step on Squall. His fingers were slipping on the stone. Seifer soon lost all hold and landed on all fours, hands and feet situated around the prone brunet. He quickly stood and retreated to the far side of the room—which wasn't far. Seifer pressed himself against the stonewalls to avoid being seen from above.

                Footsteps from above echoed down the room. Seifer held his breath while staring up at the hole in the ceiling. To his relief, the wooden hatch came down. The guard didn't seem too concerned about it. Seifer let out his breath and let his eyes drop to the crumpled form in the middle of the room. He stepped forward and sank to his knees. Hands hovered above the other's broken skin.

                "This is all my fault," Seifer frowned as he took in the damage dealt. There had to be at least fifteen different lines of bleeding red that criss-crossed along Squall's backside. There was no reason for the other to be punished. It was indeed Seifer's fault. He was the one who called the guards that night, who told them to put Squall in the dungeon.

                "I'll never forgive myself for this. I don't deserve to be forgiven, but I will right my mistake," Seifer tightly closed his eyes to hide away the wounds. He truly, deeply wanted to change what had happened between them in the past. Perhaps if Seifer didn't have such a problem with expressing feelings, none of this would have happened.  But no, all he could do was be angry and spit out sarcastic remarks. He always had to ruin everything for everyone—even for himself. "Squall, don't worry.. I'm going to take care of everything.. I'm going to get you out of here.."

                Seifer let his fingers touch the pale skin between the whip marks. It felt cold and clammy, then it suddenly began to feel numb and his fingertip began to tingle. Seifer cracked open his eyes. He peered down at the blue-green energy swirling around his hand. It drifted away from his hand and spread itself over Squall's back. Seifer watched as the wounds clotted, scarred then faded to nothing but faint pink lines. The blue energy caressed over the skin of Squall's back, washing away the blood with invisible water. Then it all simply disappeared.

                _Magic. But.. how..?_

                Seifer looked down at his hand again, this time catching the eerie glow at his chest. The silver pendant seemed to be radiating some sort of light that he could see through the black threads of his shirt. It then faded along with the scars. Was this how the god protected Squall?

                The brunet groaned then stirred on the floor. Seifer snapped out of his daze and laid a hand on Squall's back. Squall immediately stilled, tensing against the stone floor. Seifer frowned, knowing Squall was awake but for some reason he was refusing to open his eyes or even acknowledge Seifer's presence.

                "I'm sorry that I didn't give it back. It was angry that it couldn't protect you," Seifer spoke, referring to the necklace. Perhaps he could get Squall to relax; to know that no more harm was going to come to him.

                Idly, Seifer traced his fingers along one of the many faint scars that littered Squall's back. Every one of the painful marks was his fault, and the prince was mentally counting up how many times he would have to ask for forgiveness. "I'm sorry.."

                It was funny in a way. Spitting out apology after apology and knowing that it would never mend anything. Soon the words would mean nothing and Seifer would have to find some other way to fix things.

                Gently rolling Squall onto his back, Seifer wait a moment or two for the other to open his eyes. He knew the other was awake because Squall was as stiff as a board. "Playing dead isn't going to help.."

                No response. Seifer titled his head and eyed the other's expressionless face. Jade eyes traced the dark scar between the other's closed eyes. Fine. If Squall wanted to be stubborn, then Seifer was just going to have to force him to wake up.

                "I know you're listening Squall," Seifer tested for a reaction. As he guessed, the brunet didn't move a muscle. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you I'm sorry before it loses all meaning."

                The blonde leaned over the other, taking a closer examination of his face. Without the blue-gray eyes to advert his attention, Seifer found himself staring at the scar that was caused by his own two hands. That mark was the one that Seifer regretted most. At least he didn't feel so bad now that he had a matching one on his own face. Still, he had to make it right..

                "Did I ever express how sorry, and guilt ridden I am for this?" Seifer mused while reached out to lightly trace his finger down the scar running between Squall's eyes. He smiled when the brunet drew his eyebrows together but still refused to open his eyes.

                "It must have hurt. I know from experience that it did," Seifer laughed at his own dry humor. He ran his finger over Squall's scar again before leaning down and planting a soft kiss on the mark. It was a simple gesture that the prince had been yearning for. The contact of his lips to the other's skin was almost exhilarating—almost. Seifer pulled himself away before his mind could get carried away. When he pulled back, he found a pair of slate gray eyes staring blankly up at him.

                "A kiss makes it all better. Didn't your mother ever do that for you?" Seifer jested, glad to have the other responding—even if it was a small change such as opening the eyes.

                "..No.." Squall tonelessly replied. His expression was resembled that of stone. Seifer couldn't tell if the other was angry, confused, delighted. It was just impossible to decipher at the moment.

                "That's alright. Neither did my mother," Seifer lazily grinned before standing to his feet. He examined the room before spotting a wooden door on one side. That was a relief. Seifer was afraid that he was going to be stuck down there for days. He still might be, unless he figured a way to escape. The keys he got from Rinoa had become useless now. Stupid him.

                "What are.. you doing here?" Squall's voice quietly questioned.

                Seifer turned around to see that the brunet was sitting up and touching his recently healed back. His eyebrows were knitted together in severe confusion. Though, when he noticed Seifer looking at him, Squall resumed his impassive appearance.

                "Visiting you?" Seifer tilted his head at the other. He smiled when Squall narrowed his eyes in annoyance. Seifer then turned back to the door, "I'm getting you out of here."

                "Why?"

                "Don't tell me you want to stay here," Seifer glanced over his shoulder. He didn't want to explain himself all over again. It was much easier to talk to Squall when the other was playing unconscious. Joking and teasing came more smoothly when he was awake.

                "What if I do?" Squall bitterly retorted.

                Seifer watched the other try to stand, but his efforts only caused him to sink back to the floor when his legs gave out. The blonde frowned. He knew Squall wasn't big on accepting help from others. But wasn't it a little ridiculous to be refusing help at a time and situation like this?

                "Squall," Seifer spoke firmly to grip the other's attention. "Listen. I'm sorry—and I know that doesn't mean anything to you. But I'm going to try and make things right, and first thing I am going to do is get you out of this mess.."

                Silence greeted his vague explanation. Seifer turned his attention back to the door. He experimentally banged his fist on the wood a few times. It echoed horribly in the small room. There should be a guard around; one that would make sure the prisoners wouldn't cause trouble. With that in mind, Seifer started pounding on the door.

                _This is the right thing to do. Even if he says he doesn't want it. He doesn't' have to thank me. I just have to do this.._

                "Seifer stop.."

                _I know I'm the last person he expects help from, but let him be surprised. I can change._

                "Seifer. Stop it. Just.. stop."

                _Even I have a conscious. I know I was wrong. I have the chance to make it right. I'm not going to pass up this chance.._

                "Seifer!"

                The blonde stopped pounding on the door. He glanced over his shoulder. Squall was standing now, using the wall as a balance. He was glaring. There was something else swirling in the gray blue storms. It was familiar to Seifer, but he couldn't quite place the emotion. "What?"

                "Stop it. Just leave, would you? Leave me alone." Squall's voice stayed firm, but it couldn't completely mask over the despair that echoed in the words.

                _I can't just leave you._ Seifer frowned and looked away. _Getting you out of here is the only thing I will do right in my life._

                "And just how do you propose that I get out of here?" Seifer resorted to old habits to avoid expressing his concern for the other. He arched a golden eyebrow at the other in question. Squall went quiet, but retained his cold scowl. "I'm taking you out of here and there is nothing you can say, or do, that is going to stop me."

                Seifer forced a cheerful smile onto his face. He turned to pound on the door again, but paused when he heard footsteps over stone floor. This time it wasn't from above. Instead it came from the hallway. Seifer banged his fist against the wood a few more times. "Hey! Guard!"

                "Eehh, Shut up," The voice was now on the other side of the door. Seifer backed away as the metal slit was pulled aside to reveal the eyes of the prison guard.

                "About time," Seifer grinned. He held up his hand to the slit in the door. The guard eyed the gold ring on the blonde's finger. Not just any ring, but one bearing the crest of the Almasy family. "I don't like wait."

                "How the hell.. who.. how did you.." The guard stuttered in his confusion.

                "That's none of your business," Seifer sternly spoke. He didn't need the guard to start thinking of reasons. What he needed was the man to mindlessly follow orders while he was still confused. "Now. Open the door."

                "I ain't doin' nuthin'" The guard growled. "This is sum trick."

                "You want to tell that to my father?" Seifer easily threatened. It wouldn't be the first time that he used his father's position as pharaoh to get out of trouble. The people feared the wrath of an Almasy, and they had every right to be afraid. "Open the door now and maybe I will forget this little mishap."

                Muttering curses, the guard slid the metal over the small opening. Seifer heard the jangle of keys on the other side. Perfect. Everything was working out so far. The blonde gestured for Squall to come to the door, but the brunet did not comply. Seifer glanced to see the other still leaning up against the wall looking more pale than usual.

                "Don't be stubborn now. It's either you walk out of here on your own free will or I drag you out. Whatever you chose is fine by me," Seifer grinned mischievously.

                Scowling, Squall moved towards the door. He made it a few steps before collapsing to the floor—except he never hit it, because Seifer was there to catch him. The blonde frowned down at his opposite, "What's wrong?"

                Squall sighed and tried to straighten himself; pushing away from Seifer's body. "Cure may heal wounds, but it doesn't replace blood or energy.."

                "Cure? That's what it was?" Seifer laughed nervously at the thought of himself using magic. He took one of Squall's arms and looped it over his shoulders and wrapped his own arm around Squall's slender waist. The brunet was glaring daggers at him, but Seifer just smiled back, glad to have the excuse to be near the other. "Would you rather me carry you? I wouldn't mind.."

                "Whatever," Squall turned his face away from the amused emerald gaze.

                "That's the spirit," Seifer chuckled as the wooden door swung open revealing one aggravated guard. Slowly Seifer walked both Squall and himself towards the door, but the guard stood in the middle, blocking their passage. "You can move aside now."

                "You can go, but he stays." The guard gestured to Squall.

                Seifer tightened his grip on Squall's waist; protectively pulling him closer. "He comes with me. Move out of my way."

                "He stays. The law states that he is to be executed," The guard grunted, refusing to move.

                Tensing, Seifer narrowed his eyes at the guard. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the way Squall's head dropped forward. Defeated. Surrendering.

                _Never Surrender._

                Had so much changed to cause Squall to lose his willpower? It was still there. Seifer had seen it just moments before. There was still pride and determination there. Seifer wouldn't let the brunet fade; he would not let him die.

                But now was the choice. Seifer could pay the guard off, which would be the easy way out. But the blonde did not like the idea of bending to someone else's will. A second choice would be to use a silver-tongue to trick his way out of the dungeon. But deceit and lies was a woman's way. There was only one last choice. Seifer would do it the Almasy way.

                "If he dies, I will make sure that he isn't the only one," The words fell coldly from his lips. It would have be nicer if Seifer could reached his dagger to stress his point, but he was a bit preoccupied with holding onto Squall—both to keep the brunet up right, but also because.. it just felt nice to be helping the other, to hold him..

                The guard mulled over the threat in his mind. Seifer tried to straighten himself to his full imposing height, but Squall was shorter and the arm over his shoulders kept the prince from looking down upon the guard. Instead he glared, not angrily, but a cold empty leer. Seifer knew how to make threats. Always speak sharp, clearly and to the point. Never back down. Never look away from the enemy. Never over-do threats or the enemy will see the bluff. Always keep control. Never show emotions. Remind them who is in charge.

                "Move out of my way," Seifer kept himself from sneering. He could see the guard slowly leaning back, ready to step aside. Yet there was still the defiance that kept him in place. Seifer moved forward, ready to shoulder the other aside to get through if he had to. "Don't be a fool. I can have your family hanging along side you if you truly wish. Think about that for a moment.."

                Seifer smirked as the guard narrowed his eyes. To threaten a man's family was a dangerous move—the perfect move. "At my word, the men who once stood as your friends would turn and seize your wife and children without a second thought. All because you wouldn't step aside and let the prince through."

                The man grunted and moved back. Seifer smiled, wickedly, he loved winning. It was a part of himself that he hated. The part that loved to beat others down. His arrogance. His pride. It was the wrong traits to live by. Yet, he couldn't help it. It was who he was. .. an Almasy.

                "Good boy," Seifer walked through, guiding Squall over the stone floor. The brunet was trying to ignore him, even though he was right there, brushing skin to skin with every stride. It was amazing how well Squall could just pretend some things just did not exist. If he wanted, Seifer could swear Squall would deny that he needed to breath in order to live.

                "I told you everything was going to be alright," Seifer whispered down at his silent partner.

                "Hn," Squall grunted, sounding unconvinced.

                They reached the stairs and Seifer led them up, smiling happily that nothing bad had happened. He was able to get to Squall before they hurt him—too much. They had not ended up fighting, that was always a plus. And now they were escaping, no strings attached. Just a few more stairs and they would once again be in the sunlight and out of the foreboding darkness.

                But what then?

                Seifer had never been much of a methodical person. He would always act upon impulse than logic. The plan had been to free Squall. That was now completed, which left the question: Now what?

                _I have to get him somewhere safe._ Seifer bit down on his lower lip. He knew if he left Squall in the city, his father would have him seized and publicly executed at once. No one dared to disrespect the pharaoh. No one except his son.

                The pair neared the top of the stairs. Seifer could hear some sort of commotion outside. His heart rate began to increase. If there were people outside, that was more witnesses to go and tell his father. They would ruin everything.

                The blonde stepped out into the sunlight. The voices fell silent at once. Seifer froze and tightened his grip on Squall.

                _No.._

                Jade eyes locked on a robed figure. A tall man that stood out like a peacock among the pigeons. A man whose cold onyx eyes were brimming with suppressed anger.

                _It can't be.._

                His father. The pharaoh. The very last person that Seifer wanted to see was standing in the middle of the street. A slender figure in white was by his side, smiling cruelly. It was Rinoa.

                _So this is what her plan was.._

                "I told you, your highness," Rinoa's voice spoke out. Her face was glowing like the sun; obviously she was quite pleased with herself. "Your son disobeys your words."

                _Why does she do this.._

                Seifer let his eyes drop to the floor in a sign of defeat. He didn't know what to do. This was the end. Seifer let the last pieces hope wither and die inside his chest. How stupid of him to think he could get away unscathed. He had lost.

                "I didn't want to believe it. I never wanted to see the day were my own son would lie to me, and break the law," The pharaoh started, letting the words sting.

                Seifer didn't really hear the man. He was sinking into his mind to escape the emotional abuse. He disgraced his father, his family. Never could he live up to his father's standards. He was worthless, stupid, naïve—

                "Seifer.."

                The blonde felt a hand lightly squeezing his arm. Jade eyes switched from the ground to look at his side. Two deep blue eyes stared back at him in question. Seifer felt the faintest tug at the corner of his lips. He gave in and softly smiled at the brunet at his side. Squall had reminded him that he couldn't give up. There was someone counting on him to make it all right.

                "Never in history has there been a pharaoh's son that did what you have done unto me. Never would a pharaoh's son put so much disgrace upon the throne. Never would a son disobey his father—"

                "Then you have no son," Seifer raised his eyes to his father. The words caught the pharaoh off guard. The blonde released Squall's waist and used the hand to pry a gold ring off his finger. He tossed it into the dirt at the other man's feet. As the ring of metal buried itself into the dirt, Seifer felt an invisible burden lift from his shoulders.

                "What--?"

                Seifer didn't care to repeat himself. He wrapped his arm back around Squall's waist and steered them for the city gates. The crowd parted to allow the prince and former slave pass through.

                "You can't just let them go!" Rinoa shattered the silence. She looked angrily at the pharaoh who was only looking down at the dirt where the gold ring laid.

                Seifer smiled to himself. He felt free at last. Did Squall feel the same? The prince glanced to his quieter half. The brunet looked bewildered. Hey, it wasn't every day that a prince chose a slave over a wealthy family and future throne.

                "Squall!" A voice from the crowd shouted. A small figure broke through the line of people and scampered towards them.

                Seifer halted and stared at the petite woman standing before him. She smiled brightly up at him—and odd gesture in Seifer's opinion. She pushed something into his hands, a jar of sorts. "Put that on his wounds. It numbs the pain."

                "Wha—" Seifer didn't have time to question before the girl retreated back towards the crowd. She halted and turned on them, giving her best motherly scowl.

                "You better take care of him," With that, she turned and pushed past a blonde hair man.

                Seifer shifted his eyes to the bright blue eyes that were glaring at him. He recognized the commoner to be Zell. Seifer smirked. _Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt him.._

                The prince shook his head lightly then tugged Squall forward to continue their walking. The gates were just a few more strides. It would open up the desert to them. From there they had a long walk ahead of them..

**End Chapter.**

_______________________________________________

[1] I never knew what Griever looked like. I never beat the game. I looked around google to find an image and all I found was an action figure. But! I did go and beat the game these past few weeks. I thought it would be hard. I was deceived!

[2] I hate thinking of them in a skirt, but that is what they wore back then! I made him change later. I couldn't stand it.

[3] I know it doesn't explain, but at that point Seifer is junctioned to Griever. I made it unclear, because Seifer doesn't know anything about that stuff. So, yeah, in my story, if you wear some enchanted item, you can use its powers. It didn't really say how they junctioned GFs in FFVIII anyway.

**Author's Notes:** _I just wanted to say I hated this chapter. I had to force myself through a writer's block. I just think the chapter could have been a lot better if my thoughts were more collected. It all seems vague and empty. I'm sorry if I disappointed ya'll with this update. There is going to be one more chapter to this story before it ends, then I have to work on the sequel (which is going to be much better than this) This story, was more like my way of setting up the past._

 **Insane Keyblader:** Does that dream count as talking to Griever again? ^^,

**Poetry in Despair:** This is my first fic and you want me to write a sex scene!? Eeee! *falls* Anyway, I uh, was thinking that the rating would go up as the story progressed. But uh.. X_x


	18. Onward

**Chapter Eighteen: A New Beginning**

Freedom. Is that what this was? Seifer had always been a free man, ever since the day he was born. But somehow he had always felt trapped. He always felt that he was forced to do things that he did not want to do. Seifer was a slave to his last name. Ha, if he told that to anyone he bet they would laugh at him. Who would believe he was a slave within the walls of luxury? He knew nothing of a slave's life..

Squall did. However, Seifer has yet to see the brunet rejoice about his newly obtained freedom. The shorter hasn't even uttered a single word, or even looked anywhere besides at his feet ever since leaving the city's walls. Seifer couldn't help but wonder if this was all worth it. They've been marching through the sands for some time; Zamir had long disappeared over the horizon. The blonde was slowly roasting beneath his black clothes that soaked up the sun's heat, and the strain on his shoulders from supporting Squall was proving itself to be quite the task.

Was this what freedom was? Leaving everything he knew to walk aimlessly through fiery hills of sand. To have no bearings and have the shifting sand below his feet provide no means of firm ground to stand upon. It was tiring and testing the endurance of Seifer's muscles. Was it worth the trouble?

_ I'm failing to see what is so grand about this 'freedom' everyone longs for.._

"I can't believe.." a voice mumbled off at Seifer's side.

The blonde came back to reality and gazed down at the brunet struggling in the sand besides him. Suddenly Squall slipped in his footing and stumbled forward. The action pulled down at Seifer's shoulders and the taller sank down onto his knees in tiredness. He let Squall's arm slip off his shoulders to allow the shorter to sit by himself.

Squall stayed seated where he fell for a few seconds then laid down on his side to rest his head in Seifer's shadow. The blonde looked at his companion, meeting his tired jade with confused blue-gray.

"Yeah, I can't believe this weather either," Seifer broke the tense moment with a joke. He didn't really want to admit what both of them knew. In truth, Seifer could hardly believe it himself. He had left everything he had ever know—his family, his friends, his home, the luxury, a future throne..

"You don't even know me.." Squall's nearly breathless voice whispered. To Seifer it sounded as if the brunet was speaking internal thoughts aloud—perhaps a side effect from the lack of blood, or from the hot sun, or even a dangerous combination of the two.

Yes, Seifer had left everything for someone he knew next to nothing about. The ex-prince moved closer to Squall in order to block out more of the sunlight and to examine the other's face. Slowly reaching down, Seifer brushed a stray lock of brown hair out of Squall's face. "True, but I want to get to know you, Squall.."

"No you don't" Squall mumbled while turning his face away.

Sighing, Seifer pulled his hand away then seized one of Squall's arms. He then pulled it back over his shoulders then stood—forcing the younger to do the same. Seifer really did not feel like venturing into Squall's insecurities at the moment. Later he would show Squall that he in fact _did_ want to get to know him. But at the moment, they both really needed to find some shade, and Squall definitely needed some water in his system.

They began to trudge forward once more, resuming their earlier silence.

_Why wouldn't I want to get to know you? I did go through all this trouble to do the right thing—to save you. I think I deserve to at least get-to-know the person I abandon my name for._

Seifer snorted irritably with his thoughts, earning a fleeting glance and sigh from Squall. The brunet switched his gaze to the rolling sand dunes ahead of them. "Where are we going?"

"Velden," Seifer replied. He noticed the way Squall's head shook ever so slightly as if to doubt the prince's words. Ruffling, Seifer quickened their pace. "Yes. I know exactly where we are going. When I was a child I use to run away all the time. I mean _really_ run away. I would go out into the desert and always end up in this one small town. I know the way by heart. Trust me.."

"I do trust you," Squall confirmed then bit down on his lower lip.

Seifer couldn't help but smile at the encouragement. His spirits rose and suddenly it wasn't so hard to walk under the blazing sun while supporting the brunet. He trusted him. Squall _trusted_ Seifer! After everything that had happened in the past, there was till a chance for Seifer to make things right.

"Good, because you don't really have a choice," Seifer jested but his tone was anything but hostile. "You just watch and see. Everything is going to be just fine Squall."

_I hope._

**End "Sea of Fire"**

**Sequel in Progress.**

**A/N: **_Wow, did it take me forever to write that short ending chapter or what? I'm sure all the reviewers that I had with this story all left. I hope they come back and pat me on the back to say "good job for finally finishing something!" Of course, this is not the end, ,only the beginning. I know there is a lot of unanswered questions, and unfulfilled prophecies. The Sequel is going to be so much better, I swear, with a lot more yummy moments :3_


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